True Love Prevails
by hissaviourqueen
Summary: Collection of my Captain Swan one shots or drabbles, originally posted on tumblr: hissaviourqueen *Also taking requests on my ask box (tumblr).
1. A Quiet Moment

**How cute was the premiere of Once Upon A Time? My OTP are so cute but I want a proper kiss soon:(**

**Anyways, this is my first one-shot for Captain Swan.**

**4x01 spoilers - i think?**

**Rated M for a reason folks - includes smutt and fluff!**

**please review.**

**thinking of leaving this story open as one-shots/drabbles for captain swan&amp;possibly klaroline, thoughts?**

* * *

Emma, sighed heavily. She could not do this, just no.

She was not the type that did this - exposed feelings, spoke of them, hell, even dealt with them.

Maybe this was a bad idea, maybe she should jus-

"Emma?" well, shit.

* * *

Emma glared outside the window from her place beside the large sofa where Henry sat, playing his video game, completely oblivious to his mother's conflicting thoughts on the pirate that was currently hogging all of her brain.

Letting out a long sigh, she reflected on her day.

Well, Marian and Regina hadn't killed each other. That had to be a positive outcome. _Right? Then again maybe not._

Not really, the evil queen hadn't had an anger outlet in so long and now here she had, literally, put a stone in between her one-shot at true love and happiness. Well then, she really did have a target planted on her head, just begging to be shot at.

Note to self: Don't ever go back into the past and bring people back with you - even with the best intentions, it comes back to bite you in the arse. Ugh.

Saving somebody's life just to most likely put a target on hers.

And Killian. Hook. Whatever she had decided to call him at this present time.

Right now, we have a quiet moment.

He just had no idea how much he affected her, did he? He couldn't even possibly comprehend how much shear willpower it took on her behalf to physically pull away from him and not let him ravish her. Repeatedly.

Exposing a shiver at the thought of his hot, body writhing sweatily against hers in the midst of passio-

NO EMMA! Stop there.

Ugh, god damn pirate had to be so damn irrisistable.

Just, why?

What couldn't he be like Captain Hook from the film with the perms? And ugh, she could actually resist that one.

But the accent, and the hair, and the sparkling eyes...

"Mom," Henry's voice startled her from her current far from innocent thoughts. "Go to him, you've sure waited long enough" he added, muttering. This was so not a conversation he wanted to have with his birth mother.

"Whaa-?"

"Don't play dumb, it doesn't suit you. Besides I should go see my other mom," he snorted with a twinkle in his eyes. "Go find Killian."

With a smile and a promise to make up to spending quality time with him later, she left.

* * *

And that was how Emma Swan was stood outside the room of a certain pirate's in Granny's, switching her weight from foot to foot, restlessly right up until that pirate had opened the door, shell shocked to find her standing there.

He had quickly collected his cool, though. "Well then, lass. Don't let me stop you - please come in," he invited with a smirk and a slight bow, feeling all too happy with the situation.

Rolling her eyes, Emma walked in, quickly glancing around the ornaments that were so clearly Granny's before spinning around in a flash and setting her eyes upon the pirate whose face was entirely too close to hers for the moment.

Pulling on the lapels of his leather jacket, he stumbled forward, making it easier for her to press her lips upon his. After a moment of hesitance, he eagerly complied to her wishes, snaring his arms around her petite waist and slaming her against him so that she could feel every inch of him pressed up against her, heavily.

After she slipped her arms under the shoulders of that certain jacket - that she would never admit turned her on - and dropping it the floor, his movements stopped against her, as if realising what they were doing.

"Emma, love... Swan, we don't have too..." he seemed to be stuttering on his words and it was adorable in every way shape or form - seeing the all confident captain Hook not wanting to pressure her.

"Don't think, just feel. _This is a quiet moment_. Enjoy it. Right here and right now," she whispered, seductively in his ear, letting her hand travel the length of his torso, stopping at the hem line of his leather pants.

All restraint from him seemed to be lost then - all tongue and teeth claiming her lips in the most animalistic way possible, turning her on beyond belief when she heard an irritated growl tear out from his chest.

Trying to take off her tank top while still kissing her seemed to be quite the challenge for him bu-

With a loud rip, she heard, rather than saw him rip the white top into shreds with his hook, simultaneously pushing her back, aggressively, against the wall and breaking away from her lips, to suck on her neck. _Hard._

With hands shaking with anticipation, she managed to undo the few buttons of his vest he actually seemed to button up and shoved it off his arms, quickly. Trailing her arm softly down to his pants, all the while moaning loudly upon the actions he was performing on her neck.

"God, _Killian_," she breathed out as he hit a particulary sensitive spot behind her ear, causing him to grin in satisifaction.

Hook growled at the sound of his name, wrapping a hand and hook around her thighs and bringing them to her hips to encourage her to wrap around him. Storming out of the hallway quickly, he walked into the room portion and dropped her on the bed with a soft expression on his face, just looking at her.

In between the move, she had managed to rid herself of her black bra and now that all was left for him to do was to suck onto those nipples and send her into her oblivion.

Settling a knee inbetween her spread thighs, he leaned down to do just that.

His tongue twirled and suck around the increasingly swollen nub while his hand rubbed and carressed the other with slow movements.

Breathing heavily, the godess underneath him had seemed to had enough though, pressing her weight into him so that he flipped over and she straddled him.

Undoing the strings of his leather trousers, she kissed her way down his torso, pulling them off with her as she stepped off the bed, quietly. Staring open mouthed at his errection, which he couldn't help but notice - giving him a smug satisfaction with her so obvious approval -, he quickly moved forward, pulling her back onto the bed with him.

"Commando," she noted, hoarsly, after a second.

"Whatever you say, love," he chuckled, back whilst pinning her beneath him, all hands and hook on her body. Clearly not understanding the meaning.

Killian let out a loud groan as she snuck her hand underneath him to cup and caress him and oh-

_So good. So fucking good._ He could only imagine what it felt like to be in her.

Wrapping her hand around him, she set a fast pace, eagerly wanting him to lose control. And with that he didn't even know he possessed, he unwrapped her hand.

Oh, _sweetheart._ I will pay the favour back later. For now-

Suddenly, all the foreplay seemed to be enough for both of them, him leaning forward and burried himself home in one single thrust before stilling, to give her room to adjust.

"_Yes_," she chanted.

Pulling slowly out, he thrust back into her hot, tight, wet sheath quickly before setting a furious pace that seemed to satisfy him but leave him wanting more all at once.

Grunting loudly, he barely heard her pleas.

_Yes._

_God._

_Please._

_Killian_

_God, Killian._

_Faster, harde-_

All of sudden the tightness of her was removed as she flipped them over, her thighs straddling him as she once again took his length in her hand, and sinking down onto him with a simple, one-minded need to be filled.

Leaning backwards against him, she settled a hand on his knee as she bounced upon his length with his hook at her waist guiding her.

_"Come on, love,"_ he spoke softly into her skin at her neck.

_"Come for me,"_ he added, fingers rubbing furiously at the little bundle of nerves he found beneath the blonde hair.

Emma wasn't quite sure what it was - his voice, his accent, the little demands, his skillful fingers working her to the brink or his impressive length that seemeed to fit perfectly but she was sent forward - head first into the best orgasm of her life.

_One._

_Two._

_Three._

Four more thrusts **and** Killian followed, emptying himself into her before collapsing into the blonde's arms, his weight pressing deliciously into her.

* * *

Several minutes later, Killian smiled widely, looking at the blonde nestled into his arms, arm wrapped around his torso and head leant against his chest as a pillow.

Aye. _A Quiet moment indeed._

One he planned on cherishing forever.

And _repeating._

Several times over with his Swan.

* * *

**So thoughts?**

**Improvements/Advice always wanted:))**

**Any requests?**

** /desiredxwishes**


	2. Giggles

**Prompt: You insist you'd rather sleep under the stars but then it starts raining so I drag you into my tent, not thinking through that you're going to have to take your clothes off so you don't catch cold.**

**A/N: I am soo happy someone asked for this since I was planning a similar one!shot and CS + camping make me realllyyy happy so here you go and I hope it lived up to your expectations:)**

**Set sometime vaguely in the future, not sure when: you decide!**

**\- Shauna! xo**

* * *

"This is a really bad idea".

"And you, my dear Swan, are a pessimist".

The blonde in question snorted at him, "And you are stating the obvious".

He grinned at her, his bright blue eyes dancing with glee and mischief with his white teeth sparkling in the moonlight as his left eyebrow curled upwards, making her giggle-

-yes, she, Emma Swan actually giggled. Shocking, she's aware.

She couldn't help it. Two weeks without any monsters and ice queens (thank god!) and she's just so happy: so happy that she's just revelling in it all with him. With Killian. She couldn't remember the last time she'd ever been this happy, if ever, so yes she was going to enjoy it while it lasted because let's be honest-

-they were in Storybrooke, peace and quiet was never going to last forever.

He tapped her on the nose with his pinky on his right hand, "Such a cheeky girl".

Chuckling at her dramatic gasp in outrage, his grin widened again, his eyes never moving from hers as she struggled to keep a straight face.

"How dare you!" she mocked, her face breaking out into a wide, happy grin as her jade eyes glowed with happiness, giggles echoing along the tall trees.

Still grinning, he leaned towards her, his eyes flickering between her eyes and her pink lips before his lips descended on hers softly.

Hearing her giggle into his mouth, he growled, "Dammit lass, do you always laugh when someone is trying to kiss you?"

His face slowly separated from hers as he stared down at her, expectantly.

"Noo"._ God, she really couldn't be more adorable if she tried, could she?_ His Swan.

"Good".

Then-

-he attacked her, his lips, all consuming and passionate, fussed to hers as her legs instinctively parted, his hips slotting perfectly between them, growling as he felt the heat of her radiating to him, even through their layers of clothing. Clutching a hand to the back of her head, it wove through her blonde curls as his hook dangled loosely over her waist and coming into contact with the heated bare skin of her hip where her jumper had ridden up, he smirked against her lips as he felt a shiver travel down her spine.

Emma moaned against him as his lips traced over her jawline and onto the length of the ivory skin of her neck, rolling her eyes as she felt his lips curve up there.

Smug idiot. _Her_ smug idiot.

She leaned back against the grass, her hips arching upwards, chasing him and gripping his ass tightly in her palms to pull him down to her, encouraging him to grind against her.

Until-

-a drop of rain dropped, falling across her forehead which immediately caught her attention. The cool water a direct contrast to the heat she was currently projecting from Killian as he moaned against her.

"Killian", she murmured against his lips as his mouth travelled back up to hers.

"Mm," he muttered, his right hand coming to wrap around her leg, hitching it further up his waist.

Groaning at the change of angle, Emma almost changed her mind before she felt a few more drops of water sprinkle against her jolting her from the aroused position she was in.

Pushing her hands against his chest so that he rolled over, said person in question grinned up at her. "Want to be in control, love?"

God, that smirk, filled with innuendo and mirth did things to her. _Really_ good things to her.

"It's raining", she murmured, smirking at his put of expression, suddenly remembering how right she was-

-she'd told him, warned him this was a bad idea. Well the big bad Captain Hook really needed to listen to her more often.

"Forget it, Swan", he muttered, inching closer to reattach their lips again, almost falling on his face as she abruptly stood up.

The rain suddenly started pouring, pelting against the ground with a loud groan as Emma looked up towards the sky with a smirk appearing across all her features and her green eyes narrowing at him with an eyebrow raised perfectly above them. Smugness was coming off of her in waves as her smirk widened, the rain getting increasingly heavier.

"You gonna stay there all night, captain?" she grinned before marching off towards their tent which was less than 20 feet from where they were standing.

Turning around half way there at the lack of heavy footsteps coming, she glared softly at him-

-hands on her hips and all. "Well? Are you coming?"

Growling under his breath, he followed her-

-because doesn't he always?

His breath hitched, walking behind her as her ass shook firmly in those jeans. He almost groaned._ Those jeans._

_And was she shaking her hips more than usual as she walked forth?_

**XXX**

"Killian", she groaned.

The man in question smirked down at her, his shirt hitting the floor of their tent-

-the bright blue and pink tent they'd borrowed from Mary Margaret and David, damn them. There was never any need for this much pink.

"You don't want me to get cold now, do you, Swan?"

Hissing and chucking his shirt back at him, she crossed her arms across her chest tightly and jutted out her lower lip. He chuckled to himself, whenever she did that he just wanted to suck that pouting lip into his mouth and if she thought it would stop him, she was completely wrong.

Undoing the button of his dark jeans, he smirked up at her. "Come now, Swan, I'll ever leave on what this realm passes for underwear. Because you can't handle it, of course", her eyes light up knowingly as her lips curled upwards.

Plopping down beside her and sighing happily, he traced his hand across her legs-

-still in her sopping, wet jeans, moulding to her. That couldn't be comfortable.

"Your an ass", she muttered.

"It is a delightful ass though, isn't it?" he grinned.

"Fine. Smug ass".

"Your smug ass, sweetheart".

"Damn right".

Smirking at her possessiveness, his hand travelled up to her hip and rested there on the bare skin exposed as her wet jumped flicked upwards.

"Now", his raspy voice began, signalling to her that anything to come out of his lips would be a blatant innuendo.

"Why don't you get out of those clothes, hmm? Make yourself more comfortable".

Rolling her eyes at him, she stood up suddenly before twirling around, her back facing him but not before catching the shock on his face: the widened eyes, the arched ridged eyebrow and his mouth parting slightly as he took her in.

Closing her hands tightly around her jumper, she lifted it up quickly and folding it next to where he had slung his wet clothes lazily.

Giggling under her breath at his groan, she spun around again, facing him now.

"Now, now, Swan. Don't turn around, it ruins my view. And strip slowly, much more slowly", he rasped out, eyes travelling down her form appreciatively as he happily took her in.

"Much better", he grinned, relaxing back with his head propped up on his hooked arm, his other arm hanging loosely at his side. Looking the perfect image of ease.

Her fingers wound around the hipline of her jeans, biting her lip and shimmying them down her legs. Slowly.

Grinning at the look on his face she bent over to fold them up also kicking off her boots in the process, leaving her in matching lingerie as she turned around to grin at him before following his example and plopping down next to him.

Growling, he lunged at her, ignoring her giggling state and pulling her down to straddle him as his hands gripped her firm ass in his hands underneath her panties. His tongue slid against her lower lip in invitation before she opened her mouth, their tongues tangling together as he pressed her centre more firmly against his hardening length only protected by his thin boxers.

Giggling once more, she broke away, grinning down at her-

-bright and happy. It was everything. In that moment, her happiness was everything, reflecting between the two of them.

Pinning her down against the floor with the sleeping bags suddenly covering them with a jerk of his hand, her legs quickly encircled his waist and a fit of laughter increasing at his miffed expression.

Groaning, he went for the skin of her neck. "You know, sweetheart, a lesser man than me would take laughter when he was almost naked very differently".

"I guess it's a good thing it's you then", she grinned, a hand burying itself in his dark tresses and pulling him down towards her for another passionate kiss.

Then-

-"Bloody hell, Swan".

"Shut up moaning and kiss me, pirate".

And another round of giggles filled the small tent, soon followed by a set of moans and groans that echoed off of the trees outside their perfect little heaven.

* * *

**Thoughts? **

**I hope I did it justice and you all manage to enjoy it:)**

**Feel free to drop prompts in my ask!**


	3. Flirtatious Banter

**I got about 5 camping!au's in my ask box on tumbr to write so I'm combining a couple of them to write for a drabble, hope you guys don't mind. One more AU!camping drabble to come up shortly after this one and a part 3 to the heroes and villains one!shot - turned to three!shot - coming up too.  
**

**Prompt(s): "You're the friend of friend and I'm the friend of a friend and there's only one tent and our friends are in it hooking up, what do we do now" + "We're making smores and you keep sucking on your fingers to get off the marshmallow stickiness off and I can't stop staring".**

* * *

"I can't believe I let you talk me into this", Emma grumbled, her arms crossing over her chest as she huffed angrily, reluctantly following her two best friends.

"Because you love us", Ruby's sing-song voice rung out in the clearing as they slowly approached the camp.

"Because you know how to guilt trip me", Emma countered in response, glaring at the two girls strolling in front of her.

"But you love us anyway", Mary Magaret reminded her with a nudge to her shoulder, grinning, causing the blonde in question to let out a frustrated sigh and an annoyed huff.

Yes she did. But at this moment in time, she had absolutely no idea why.

_Camping._ Because why not?

Emma groaned out loud once more and stomped off in the general direction that her best friends were heading when she realised they'd left her behind.

Grass and the country side and why did they have to go camping again? It was simply a recipe for disaster.

Just about to sprint into a quick jog, Emma was thrown backwards, a loud huff escaping her as she landed soundly on her ass with her left leg curled up underneath her. Rubbing her head softly from where it had made contact with something quite hard.

Upon hearing shuffling footsteps, her head shot up to meet the gaze of a pair of arm blues attached to a head with a mope of dark curls which would look perfect burried between her thighs-

-and what was wrong with her? God, she just needed to get laid. That was just it.

But _damn_. He was attractive. Sinfully so with the scruff and perfectly kissable, red lips and-

"Apologies, love", he started rushing forward to help her just as she aimed to pick herself off the ground (brown and muddy and did she mention how much she hated England?), his fingers gripping her shoulders as he aided her in righting herself.

He scratched behind his ear when he was positive she was okay-

-a nervous tick?

And well, she'd been in England for what 3 months now? but his accent did seriously sinfully things to her.

"I really am sorry", he continued. "I wasn't looking where I was going and I was in a rush and..." he trailed off soon after and that's when it clicked.

This had to be him, right? David's best friend from the U.K who he never shut up about?

Damn David all to hell, he never mentioned how good he looked.

"It's Killian, right?" Emma interrupted him

His eyes crinkled at that as his left eyebrow raised upwards, looking clearly alert as his mouth parted slightly, his tongue coming to swipe along his bottom lip and-

-damn. He had to know what he was doing to her. He just had to.

Sighing out a chuckle, Emma shook her head. "Relax, I'm not a stalker", she almost giggled at the relief on his face. Yes, relief. "I'm Ruby and Mary Margaret's friend-"

"-Emma", he finished, grinning at her as he took another step forward so they were now standing a mere step away from each other. "Emma Swan, right?"

She smiled in response, looking up at him, his blues boring down onto hers as his grin widened in response.

He seem to shake himself off a bit at that, holding out an arm for her to take to which she looked down at incrediously before shooting her glare back up to his face because was this man for real?

"Come on, let me show you to where we are staying", he added with a twinkle in his eyes those which never strayed from hers.

The look never faded from her face as she redirected her gaze back upto his once more.

"I'm capable of being a gentleman, Swan". He had even seemed miffed, taking a hold of her arm and slotting in between his as they started walking towards the section of the camp site where, knowing her friends, they were watching their boyfriends put up their tents without interference from them-

-and wow, he already had a nickname for her. Was that _allowed_?

Laughing at him, she shook her head as her blonde curls bounced before retorting with a teasing, "If you say so".

**XXX**

"Is that truly necessary Swan?"

"Don't tell me that the captain is afraid of a marshmellow?"

Every since he had let it slip shortly over twenty minutes ago that he owned a boat, she had taken to teasing him about it, much to David's dissproval with his face hunching in displeasure as he watched the flirty banter between the two.

Killian was looking directly at her, the displeasure clearly evident on his face as he stared down at the item of food wrapped around a thin branch that she was currently holding.

Snorting at his dramatic behaviour, she muttered out a, "It's not going to kill you", which was emphasised by the snickers and giggles of those around them.

The disbelieving look never faltered from his face so Emma shrugged, popping the white and creamy marshmellow into her mouth. Her mouth parted in pleasure as she groaned at the delicious taste-

-what? She always did have a thing for camp food, sue her, and marshmellow's are the best. It reminded her of one of the only good times she had left from being in the care system.

Shaking off the thought, she grinned back at Killian. "Your loss", she muttered back at him.

"I'm not so sure it is, love", he flirted, his gaze locked on her bottom lip where her tongue was currently swiping off to remove the stickiness of the pink liquid and followed the movement intensely.

His eyes flickered from her red lips back to her jade eyes and back again, almost as though he wasn't sure where to look. Shifting uncomfortably on the seat now, a wicked smirk replaced the small smile on Emma's lips, grinning as she realised the effect she had on him causing both Ruby and Mary Margaret's eyes to narrow at her although her eyes never strayed from Killian's.

He winked at her, his blue eyes glistening in the moonlight-

-hmm, a full moon. That couldn't be good for a night of camping.

His eyes flared down to her top lip as her tongue peaked out once more, slowly this time, flickering from left to right as his mouth parted slightly, his very red, very kissable lips prominent as his eyes darkened with lust. He swallowed loudly, the gulp visable in his throat as he shifted again, crossing his right leg over his left one, looking very ahem-

-not comfortable?

Ruby rolled her eyes and muttered something under breath that sounded suspicially like "Men".

Though Victor's arm came around her moments after which soon directed her attention as he threw a conspiratory glance at Killian to which he received a thankful nod-

-they really had all the subtlty of a hand grenade, didn't they?

Though, Emma suspected it had a lot more to do with the benefits for Victor than it did for Killian as they announced they were heading off for the tent, Mary Margaret and David joining them shortly afterwards.

"Don't do anything I wouldn't do, Ems", Mary Margaret teased as she briefly hugged her friend, whispering in her ear and earning her an eye roll in response.

"Watch it, Jones", David warned Killian at the other side of the bonfire, far enough away that the two girls couldn't hear them.

"Of course, Dave", Killian muttered in response, trying to placate the unhappy David as he glared down at him before giving up completely and shooting him an exasperated stare, "Night, mate".

Did David almost _growl_?

Emma giggled at the sight: the two of them were certainly amusing with David's snarling face and Killian's exasperated one, almost looking as though they were preparing for battle.

David's hand reluctantly uncurled from its previous place on Killian's shoulder as Emma and Mary Margaret came over to join them, his fiance shooting him an annoyed look to which he huffed underneath his breath. It was almost adorable how whipped he was sometimes.

"_Good night, Killian_", Mary Margaret emphasised, glaring at David as he stayed rooted to the spot, eyes flaring between Killian and Emma as she came to stand by his side, hands falling loosely by their sides and brushing up against each other in the process, a blush overtaking her face at the gesture.

David's glare never faltered, "I'm warning you, Jones-"

"Aren't I supposed to be your best mate, Dave?"

He just snarled (or growled?) in response, allowing Mary Margaret to pull him off in the general direction of their tent, ignoring the snickerings of the two left by the fire.

"He really is powerless against her, isn't he?"

"You haven't seen the half of it, Swan".

_Yeah, that she had no doubt of._

**XXX**

"Sorry about that", she muttered quietly to him some time after when Mary Margaret and David were finally gone, embarassment taking over as her cheeks flushed a delicate pink, travelling downwards and-

-he really needed to get his mind out of the gutter.

"What, Dave? I dare say I'm getting use to it now".

She snorted in response, "Yeah, I think you should be".

He grinned in response, eyes sparkling down at her. They were sat much closer now, practically touching on the small bench with the fire still blazing warmly in the background, his eyes following hers as she shifted her legs slightly from underneath her.

It'd been almost thirty minutes since the two couples had retreated to their tents for the night and Emma and Killian had resigned to the fact that they were going to be sharing a tent-

-god damn, this was going to be _hell_.

_"I could have swore we packed four tents", Ruby defended herself._

_"Clearly not", Emma gritted out from beneath clenched teeth, Mary Margaret shooting her a glare._

_The boys stood to the side slightly, looking almost uncomfortable as they looked on like they were preparing for a battle. And well, usually, that wouldn't be so far fetched._

_Emma was at an impasse. On one hand, boy was she glad: alone with the one guy who had been flirting with her all night but on the other hand: alone with Killian for the whole night, just how was she supposed to stop herself from jumping his bones? Maybe she didn't have to-_

_-and get your mind out of the gutter, Swan, she scolded herself inwardly._

_Mary Margaret jumped forward with a placating smile then, obviously trying to make everyone happy. "It's fine", she insisted. "Emma can share with Killian. Where all adults here, aren't we? And I'm sure she won't mind, right Emma?"_

_"Well-"_

_"See! Everything's fine"._

_Growling, Emma shook her head as her traitor of friend's walked off to their boyfriends, leaving her alone with Killian for a couple of minutes before they inevitably shouted they over for slacking behind._

_"Well, I can't say I'm so dissapointed in the surprising turn of events, sweetheart"._

_She snorted in response, "Of course you're not"._

_He frowned at that, scratching that damn spot behind his head and dear lord, she hated just how adorable he was too._

_"I'm sure we can figure out another arrangement, Emma. It doesn't have to be this way, I'm sure Victor or Dave would be okay to-"_

_Rolling her eyes and cutting him off mid rant, she stepped forward to grap his hand tightly in her grip, "Really, Killian, it's fine"._

_He grinned once more at that, the smile transforming into a smirk-_

_-a sinful smirk that promised lots of very good things to come._

_"Of course it is. You get to spend the night with a dashing rapscallion such as myself, understandable"._

_She snorted once more at the sense of confidence that seemed to waver on and off for him as she rolled her eyes and removing her hand from his grip, pointing her index finger roughly at his chest, "No funny business, Jones"._

_"As you wish", his flirty voice replied back as she strolled back to their friends, his heavy footsteps indicating that he was following._

_She did not grin at that. Nope. No, no. She did not-_

_-okay, maybe just a small smile._

_Especially when his rough, callous left hand came to brush up against her back as they walked forwards slowly together, his chuckle vibrating against her._

"Hm, what?"

It seemed he had been talking while she had drifted off into dreamland, her throughts consumed by him and by the way his smirk widened, his eyes sparkling down at her in mirth, he knew.

Damn him. Damn him and the effect he had on her.

And that accent, god that accent could be the death of her, she was sure of it.

"Nothing", he muttered, shaking his head slightly as he grinned.

Rolling her eyes at him, "Fine, captain innuendo, what are we going to do now?"

She was pretty sure he knew everything he wanted to know about her by now, he'd been questionning her all night, demanding he wanted to know everything there was to know about _the american lass he fancied._

_"Such a charmer", she had teased right back, causing a grin to overtake his dynamic features._

"Why we, my dear, Swan, are going to head to our tent. For sleep", he clarified at her odd expression, her eyes narrowing at him. "And then tomorrow", he continued, "You and me are going to go Franky and Benny's for a lovely meal".

Her jaw dropped at that, eyes widening comically as her eyes flickered back upwards to see his almost nervous expression looking back down at her.

"Like a date?" _Okay, her voice so did not come out that squeaky. Nope._

"Yes, a date", he clarified.

"You really think you can ask me out on a date by ordering me about? Because let me tell you, Killian Jones, I'm a twenty five year old modern woman an-"

His lips came crashing down on hers, effectively cutting her off and causing her lips to part on a gasp from the shock with him immediately taking advantage, his tongue darting out into her mouth to tangle with hers and wow-

-he was a good kisser, she'd give him that much. The perfect contrast between rough and sweet. His lips were soft, so soft, as they prised hers open, his teeth nipping against her lower lip as she sighed contentedly.

Wrapping his arm around her waist to bring them closer together, her breasts pressed deliciously against his chest as a quiet moan escaped from between her parted lips, the grin she felt against her informing her that he heard it. His left hand came up to stroke the soft skin of her cheek, his mouth dettaching from hers, giving them both time to breathe as her breath came in heavy pants against him.

His eyes flickered between her lips and eyes as the sinful smirk reappeared on his lips before he detangled himself completely from her and danced backwards a step or two, preparing to make a run for their tent for the night.

"Be ready for seven tomorrow, Swan", was the only words that were spoke before he strolled off for their tent.

Huffing at him, she released a breathy sigh, "You're lucky I like you, Jones".

"And don't I know it."

* * *

**Like it? Yes, no? I'd love to hear what you thought so pop me a review?**

**\- Shauna! xo**


	4. Firsts And Seconds

**Set vagely in the future from the last chapter but don't need to read to understand this drabble. Relationship established.**

**Rated M for smut.**

**Prompt(s): "We're hiking and we get stuck in a downpour and Christ it is freezing and why didn't we pack raincoats, and oh no, we need to share a sleeping bag now to regain some body warmth." + "I am not doing it so close to where everyone can hear us oh look, I've found an empty cabin in the woods." **

* * *

"Killian", came the whiny voice of his girlfriend of two years from her place three or four feet behind him, her heavy footsteps sludging through the mud.

"Yes?"

"Why are we doing this?"

Could she go once without getting the last word in? Killian swears they've had this same conversation six times since they left their house. She was a stubborn one, his Swan, unable to give until she got what she wanted.

"You know why, Swan," he rolls his eyes at her, causing her to scoff at him though he caught the hint of a smile dancing around the edge of her lips.

She snorts at his words. _Yeaah._ No, not really. So instead she settles for a, "Because you're an old fashioned asshole?"

"Because I wanted to come back to the place where we had first met. Excuse me for being romantic," he sniffs out, briefly turning around to glare at her before flashing back around to continue on his trek.

"But I hate camping," her whiny, slightly high pitched voice rings out, declaring her annoyance and irritation with the situation causing his lips to twitch in an effort not to smile.

He snorts at the obvious statement. Yes, that much he found out about Emma Swan the first time he had met her and during the amount of times he'd coerced her into camping during their relationship, that had not changed, much to his dismay-

-and well, Emma's, of course. He still remembered dragging her out in the middle of October to one of his favourite camping spots, one month after they had started to dating. Safe to say he had some grovelling to do after they had got caught up in a typically drizzly winter day in London.

He shakes his head slightly, trying to forget about their first fight, "Yes, you've made that much clear."

"My ankle could be sprained." She never stops, does she?

"Every the dramatic one, aren't you, love?" he questions her exasperatedly, rolling his eyes once more at her persistent comments and questioning.

"It could be seriously injured."

"Doubtful."

"Fine."

He sighed. "Don't be that way, sweetheart."

"You mean the way when you've forced me out on a cold, wintery day in London in the middle of the woods-"

"Hardly cold for England, love", he cuts her off halfway through her ranting as adorable as she is when she goes off on one.

"-I mean you could have brought me out to kill me for all I know", she continues, glaring at him as she picks up her pace, coming to stand by his side so her glare is no longer directed at his back.

He sighs. This again? He swears she accuses him of wanting to kill her at least once a week.

"As I've previously stated. Dramatic."

She huffed in response, "I am not dramatic. And that's like the pot calling the kettle back."

"Now, now, Swan, don't fret. We're nearly there anyways." Well, sort _of._

"You said that two hours ago."

_Oops_, was she on to him?

"Are you doubting my capabilities to navigate us there, love?"

"Never," the sarcasm in her voice echoes throughout the area, her voice bouncing off the tall trees, all bear without their leaves.

He barely manages a huffed out, "You're far too sarcastic for your own good."

She rolled her eyes in reply, shooting him a brief glare, "Seriously, pot meet kettle."

He shoots her a returning glare, huffing once more-

-and maybe they did spend a tad too much time in each others company, he muses, thinking back to the amount of times he now huffs and rolls his eyes. She was a bad influence.

"Killian...", her singsong voice rung out once more.

"Two more minutes, I promise, sweetheart," he grins, turning around to loop his arm around her waist loosely and trails his fingers lightly over her ribs, tracing patterns of continuous circles.

She huffs at him, "Whatever you say, captain."

He groans at her in reply, causing a grin to break out across her face as she sticks her tongue out at him (he unfortunately found her childish behaviour incredibly endearing and his little minx knew that) and shoots him a wink.

Emma becomes seemingly lost in her thoughts after that, the two of them walking in silence-

-though, not an uncomfortable one (as they have many times; his Swan wasn't the outgoing type).

Her tongue peeks out of the hot cave of her mouth, dropping to her upper lip, swiping from left to right as her teeth coming into play, biting onto her bottom lip softly, the sight making him groan inwardly. Now, was _so_ not the time for this. Her eyes are slightly blank, giving him all the information he needs to know that this isn't her trying to seduce him, rather the unconscious move of her worrying.

"Swan?"

"Hm?"

"You alright over there?" he questions softly.

He knew Emma Swan by now. Flaws and all. And he therefore knew that demanding was not the way to get her to open up especially when something was bothering her, when it so clearly was right now. Let's just say subtlety was not her strong suit.

"Of course."

He frowned slightly, about to say more when something caught his eye and he grinned, suddenly feeling perked up, "We're here."

She lightened up at that, her whole demeanor brightening up as she shot him a grin, her jade eyes dancing up at him as her arms suddenly wrap around him tightly, caging him in. A quiet, "Finally", muttered against the fabric of his henley.

He grins, his arms coming around her in response, the fingers of his right hand heavily moving down her clothed back and under the sweater she was currently doning, smirk widening as he hears her breath hitch in response, his hand meeting the soft skin of her spine.

Shifting his weight slightly to his left leg, he brings her in even closer to him as he feels a drop of wet liquid on his forehead as his grin falters, now frowning slightly. Chancing a look upwards, he catches the sight of the grey clouds and dull sky and _crap_.

He gives his little spitfire to the count of five before-

"Is that rain?" she screeches out, pushing him away quickly and scowling up at him, her forehead scrunching up in that way that he can't help but find adorable as her nose wrinkles up and-

-he can't help it, he leans forward with a grin to place a quick kiss on the top of her nose and it's one of _their things_.

He's not dumb though, quickly dancing out of the way before she can punch him. His girl has a _mean_ right hook, one he found out the rather difficult way.

"Killian," she yells out once more, her arms crossing over her chest, still glaring up at him. The image of defiance and it makes him grin even wider because she's his. She is all _his_.

He dances out of the way once more when she marches forward to which she huffs at, staying where she is.

Her glare never falters as she pouts, her bottom lip jutting outwards, making him want to suck that lip between his teeth, nibble down and-

"We don't even have the tents set up yet."

"No need to fret, Swan. The tents were merely a secondary resource, I have us booked up at that cabin over there which is nothing but a two minute walk," he grins down at her, moving out of her way gracefully and begins marching up the hill, in the direction of the cabin.

The rain was coming down heavily now, pouring and pouring as Emma stands still, the pout still evident on her face and wow, wearing white was so not a great idea.

He got halfway up the hill before frowning and flashing around, realising that he was missing a lack of additional footsteps.

He huffs, frustrated, hands on his hips to which she grins at, her eyebrow popping upwards, "Well are you coming, love?"

She groans at him, beginning to mount the hills much to her own dismay and his pleasure as he turns around to continue marching up the hill.

"I hope you know you've got a lot of making up to do for this."

He grins at that because if that wasn't an invitation for innuendo, what was? "Oh, I certainly plan on it, sweetheart."

She snorts at him in reply, jogging up to him quickly and making him jump in surprise when she slaps him roughly on the ass if his shouted yelp is any indication, the grin appearing on her face widening as her teeth gleam.

"Okay, casanova, lead the way."

Smirking, he does as he is told, arm clenching around her waist and his hand tangling with hers as he leads her in the correct direction.

**XXX**

"Killiiaan," Emma's voice echoed throughout the cabin, her arms crossing over her chest on a huff.

"Yes, darling?"

"Please," she whined at him, her eyelashes fluttering as she displayed the puppy dog eyes, her bottom lip jutting out on a pout and-

-damn, now his thoughts were headed in a less than innocent direction. Little minx. She knew what effect she had on him. She always had and she was never afraid of using it to her utter advantage.

"No."

He grinned at her shocked expression. He, well, he certainly didn't have a habit of saying no to her. Most days he simply couldn't.

Her demeanour vanished, the annoyed expression replacing her previously seductive one.

"But I have no more clothes."

"I did warn you," he told her as she took a step towards him, her hips swinging with the movement purposefully with a seductive smirk plastered across her face as her eyes danced up at him, sparkling in the artificial light.

"I believe you stated I was wearing too much, not to pack less," she told him with a raised eyebrow, popping a hand on her hip.

"That was before we came here, when we were going to see my brother. There was no need to wear a vest top, a jumper, a hoodie and a parker to go across town to see my brother, Emma," he insisted.

"How am I suppose to know what to wear? You do realise how unpredictable the weather is on this side of the river, right?" she glared.

He sighed, a hand coming across his forehead, "Yes, love. I'm aware, I've only lived here nearly my entire life."

She grinned up at him in response, her hand trailing down his clothed torso and dipping into the back pockets of his dark jeans, firmly cupping his ass in her palm through the material. He almost yelped this time._ Almost._

"You really have a thing for my ass, don't you?" he smirked down at her.

"Was that ever in question?" she grinned cheekily back, squeezing him again in her palm. This time, he did let out a yelp much to Emma's pleasure if her shit-eating grin was any cosilation.

He sighed at her as she continued grinning up at him, her free hand tracing patterns over his shoulders and down over his torso, onto the width of his hips. Her head ducked into his neck, her lips latching onto the pale skin she found there, her teeth coming into the equation as she nips down lightly. Her lips trail across the length of his earlobe-

-his god damn weakness and she knows that perfectly well.

Her breath fans against him as she sucks his earlobe, him letting out a breathy groan as she grinds her hips up into his with a smirk (he can feel the edges of her red lips curving upwards against him).

"Please," she breathes out against his ear, tongue running against him.

He groans, "Emma."

"Please," another lick across his neck, soothing the bite mark she had made two minutes previous.

"Please," her lips come tracing across his cheek, her teeth momentarily digging into the skin she finds there before pressing a chaste kiss to his red and swollen lips. Another whispered, breathy, "Please" is pressed there before she continues on to the opposite side of his neck, teeth latching once more onto the awaiting, pale skin as she grins at his strangled moan of "Swan".

"You're not exactly giving me any incentive here to give you more clothes to put on, Swan."

His voice hadn't meant to come out that breathy, right? He sighs inwardly, two years of them being together and he's still not immune to her charms.

Her head suddenly pops back into his vision, a muttered, "Good" whispered against him so close he can practically taste her before her lips descend onto his, warm and round and so fucking Emma that he wants to cry with happiness.

He swipes his tongue against the skin of her bottom lip, coaxing her into parting her mouth on a gasp, his tongue tangling with hers at the first possible moment as a growl builds low in his throat. His left hand comes to tangle in her blonde curls, tugging her head to the side for a better angle and shooting down to the skin of her neck to curl his hand around the heated skin he found there.

And as quickly as it begun, it was over, Emma pressing chaste kisses to his lips before pulling away from him entirely, detangling herself, grinning wickedly up at him, "So. Bedroom?"

He nodded enthusiastically at her. Bloody hell, _yes_.

Growling, he lunges forward, gripping her upper thighs and launching her across his shoulder, grinning as Emma lets out a loud giggle (yes an actual rare Emma Swan giggle) and marches them towards their bedroom, throwing her down on the bed before roughly separating her thighs and laying between them.

His lips crash down on hers just as her legs circle his waist, thighs clenching around him as he instinctively grinds down on her, his length rapidly hardening at the feel of the heat radiating from her. God, she feels-

"So good," she gasps out suddenly, "God, Killian, you feel so good."

He groans out himself, grinding faster into her now, hands frantically beginning to undress her-

-though, she was hardly wearing anything but a long sweater to begin with (the only thing slightly dry from their trek, they'd realised once she had finished showering).

Growling at some abbreviation of her name when he realises she wasn't wearing a bra underneath, his hands immediately travel to her red, lacy panties and yanking them off of her with one powerful pull.

"Killian", she chastises him when she realises he ruined her underwear._ Again_.

He grins up at her, hands fumbling underneath her to grip her ass and pull her more firmly down onto him and _oh god_.

"I'd apologise but we both know I'd be lying," he rasps against her, still grinding heavily against her and-

"Feeling dominant today, love?" he comments as she flips them over in one quick, sharp move and pins his hands above his head, peeling the wet, dark henley from him and reaches down to undo his belt, throwing it hazardly to the side with a loud _clank_.

She climbs off him, hand tracing lightly over his hipbone with a mischievous smirk on her face, hand dancing into his jeans to give him one light stroke of her hand causing him to let out a string of explicits. _Please. Fuck, Emma. Swan_.

However, she releases him immediately, fingers curling around the hem of his jeans and boxers to pull them down entirely in one quick move and-

-did he just hear a _rip_?

Groaning, he blindly reaches for her and yanks her down to him, pinning her underneath him quickly and squeezing her ass firmly in his grip, encouraging her to wrap her long, slim legs around his waist by trailing his hands down to the soft skin of her upper thighs much to Emma's delight.

"Don't think you're one to complain about ruined clothing," he rasps against the soft skin of her ear, biting down softly onto the skin of her soft neck, determined on leaving a mark.

She growls at him, switching their positions and straddling him intimately, creating a slow, rocking motion that has him hardening beyond what he thought was humanely possible, gripping tightly onto her hips so he has control over their grinding.

"Do you ever shut up?"

He grins up at her and pins her back down on the bed, sucking kisses into her neck, teeth nibbling as he briefly grinds down into her, bare skin meeting bare skin.

Emma growls, making a noise of complaint from deep in back of her throat. He trails his kisses downward slightly, mouth latching onto the nipple of her left breast, his opposite hand coming up to fondle the right one gently, relishing in her gasps and moans of his name and smirking widely as her hands latch into his dark locks, pulling roughly in opposing directions.

He releases the breast soon after, much to Emma's displeasure, kisses travelling south once more, his intentions clear until Emma's grip on his hair tightens to the point of pain, he muses, wincing slightly in displeasure as she yanks him back up to her.

A desperate, "No, need you now", is whispered against his lips as she sucks his bottom lip into her mouth, legs circling his waist once more and clenching around him, her wanted intentions more than clear.

"As you wish, darling," is whispered against the hollow of her throat before he thrusts forward. _Hard_.

Her hands abondon him after that, moving upwards to clench around the red pillow case of the pillow and curling her nails sharply around it, a broken, "God, please, Killian", escaping her lips much to his pleasure.

He withdraws from her heat, so slowly its deliciously torturous before slamming back home just as quickly as when he'd initially entered her. Pausing momentarily, he circles his hips, grinning when she releases another breathy "Killian" and he knows his hit her clit before repeating the motion and soon he's thrusting in and out of her frantically, chasing his own release and trying to draw hers.

Soon enough she's reaching down to rub her clit sloppily, her index finger rubbing circles against herself as she whimpers out his name loudily, causing him to let out a loud growl as he feels her clenching around him, trying to draw his own climax from him.

Leaning forward to change the angle, he groans out loudily when she continues to clench around him, well on her way to her second orgasm before he abruptly pulls her left leg over his shoulder, knee bent towards her chest. And he knows his hit that perfect spot inside of her when her eyes close tightly, fingernails digging harshly into his back, making him groan out-

-emma wanting to leave her mark on him turns him on beyond belief. And the little minx knows that.

Reaching down to rub her clit himself, he growls, teetering on the edge before realising he wants to feel her clench around him once more.

"Come on. You're close aren't, you? One more. Come for me once more, let me feel you clench around my cock," he whispers against her ear, hips pounding frantically and roughly into hers, lips brushing against her as he pins her wrists above her head on the pillow with one of his, chest rumbling with every word he spoke.

That seemed to be the key-

-as it always is: dirty talk turned Emma on, she admitted to him as much.

Soon enough she was clenching around him, releasing a loud, "Yes. Killian!" and milking his own climax from him before he collapses on top of her, exhausted.

Trying not to hurt her with his weight, he rolls off of her not two minutes later, instead gathering her up onto his chest, arms coming firmly around her. Her sleepy eyes flutter slightly, making him grin.

"Don't look so smug," she mutters against the skin of his chest, poking him in his chin with her pointy, index finger.

His chest rumbles against her head as he releases a chuckle followed by a, "I wouldn't dream of it."

She sighs contentedly, hand resting against his neck as her eyes flutter shut, humming under her breath as darkness begins to claim her.

"Swan?"

She makes a contented, knowing sound in the back of her throat and he chuckles. It wasn't the first time he'd fucked her into oblivion.

"I love you."

"Love you too," she mumbles out, already halfway asleep before her breaths evened out completely and he knew she was asleep. And he was content, more than content, to just watch her sleep._ Forever._ She looked so peaceful and innocent in her sleep. He didn't know why but it was in that moment, that particular moment that he knew-

-she was the one for him. She was the one who he wanted to be forever. Who he wanted to marry and have kids with. He vowed he would. _Soon._

* * *

**So I really don't know how I feel about this. I hate writing smut almost as much as I love reading it so let me know what you think. Critism is the only way I improve!  
**

**\- Shauna**


	5. The Lucky One

She smiles, watching the after ball decorations, the big, tall balconies covered in pink confetti and banners so tasteful it could have only come from her mother as the group of dwaves come racing through the castle, tottling as they attempt to carry in what looks like an... ice sculpture? or something.

She curses her mother's existence sometimes. She has far too high expectations when it comes to balls and how they should look. She'd been forced to spend 5 hours in a cramped room with the seamstress and everybody else just to figure out what material she would like her dress to made of.

She sighs at the thought (and winces, if she's honest).

Twirling around at the unexpected clatter (and almost jumping out of her skin), she is surprised to come face to face with-

"Hello, love," he says, sheepish, as he grins at her-

-all happy and bright and it just makes her heart sing in her chest. Damn, adorable idiot. His eyes are sparkling down at her, though, the blue in them cutting into her very soul and all of a sudden she is transported back to the day it all began (sort of).

_"Your highness-"_

_The princess in question groans at the title, "We've been through this. It's Emma, just Emma."_

_"Just Emma?" he questions, sparkling blue eyes gazing down at her for a moment or two before he averts his eyes, clearly embarrassed and clearing his throat on a breathy cough._

_She shoots him an odd look, "Call me Emma."_

_He looks as though he's about to argue further with her before she cuts him off again, "I can make it an order, Lieutenant."_

_He coughs once more, amusement flooding his features as he smiles kindly at her, mouth parted to show off his sparkly whites, his left dimple making an appearance in the process. She bites her lip in reply to the image he's creating, shaking her head slightly to throw the thought out of her head._

_"How about I'll call you Emma and you call me Killian?"_

_She nods at that, still biting her lip into a smile, teeth grazing a tad too deeply as she winces, drawing blood._

_They'd been walking for about all of five minutes when he speaks up again and in all honesty, she was surprised he lasted that long, she could see his twitching fingers as he ached to know where they were going: it was in his nature to navigate after all._

_"To where are we headed?"_

_She tried not to giggle at his formality. She really did but, of course, it was no use as he shot her an unamused stare, arm coming to brush up against hers as they walked side by side (and goosebumps didn't raise on her skin at the physical contact, not at all)._

_She rolled her eyes, "If I told you it wouldn't be a surprise would it now, hm?"_

_He opened his eyes, clearly about to berate her and she completely knew what it was about. She swore her mother paid him extra to make sure she was behaving._

_"You'll be wasting your breath if your mouth parts on the words I expect," she told him, huffing slightly and shooting him a sideways glare before briefly focussing on her steps-_

_-she was a clutz, okay? She really needed to watch where she was walking._

_"So you do know better," he settled for as a retort._

_She rolled her eyes again, making him huff also, "Yes, I'm aware of what is expected of me. Similarly, I've quite decided I don't care much presently."_

_He snorted at that and she grinned, "You know-"_

_"Do stop talking, Emma."_

_"You don't even know what I was going to say," she exclaimed, voice raising in pitch._

_He grinned once more. _

_"You're an open book, darling, of course I know what you were going to say."_

_She just huffed in reply. He was lucky she liked him so much._

"Reliving our first meeting?" his voice broke her out of her reverie, blue eyes sparkling down at her just like they had on that first day as his arms wound around her waist, right hand running soothing patterns down the clothed material of her back.

She just laughed, "You know me too well."

"Well I should hope so, princess," he astonished, glaring around at all the decorations meaningfully before his eyes settled on hers once more.

She scowled in response, "You know I hate it when you call me that."

"And you know that glaring at your husband to be isn't-"

"Lady-like or princess like at all, yes, I do know and you very well know that I do," she huffed, shooting daggers at him.

He grinned, all happy and soft as his left dimple appeared, causing her pinky finger on her right hand to reach out to poke it as he huffed at her behaviour, rolling his eyes and muttering "Childish," beneath his breath.

She gasped in mock exaggeration, "How dare you!"

"Fret not, Mrs Jones, you know it's one of the qualities I find most endearing about you."

"Not Mrs Jones yet," she reminded him with a soft smile, hands curling around the nape of his neck and latching onto his short, black curls as he smirked down at he.

"Almost," he sighed in response to her actions, hands softening at her waist.

Her head ducked into the skin of his neck, sighing there and raising goosebumps as his hands faltered in their never ceasing movements against her waist before continuing.

"It's bad luck to see the bride before the wedding," she told him, muttering into his neck.

He pulled away from her slightly, searching for her eyes, grinning as he saw the dilated pupils.

"We've never been the two much for traditions," he told her, "It wouldn't make much sense to start now."

She snorted. That was putting it quite lightly.

_"Emma, we really shouldn't-"_

_Rolling her eyes at his characteristically show of formality, she snorted at his insistence, "It's fine, Killian."_

_"It's improper-" he cut off as her hands trailed up to his chest, fingers lingering there as his breath hitched and tracing the chest hair that was currently on display. She grinned, pleased to know she had that effect on him because, after all, he had a great effect on her and he knew that (also not ashamed to use it to his advantage whenever he pleased).  
_

_"You plastered me against the bricks of the castle before you escorted me to my room last night and now you're worried about being improper?" she questioned him with a raised eyebrow and a grin._

_He shot her a incredulous look at that, "You begged me to kiss you."_

_She glared back at him, "Princesses don't beg, I asked and you certainly didn't take much convincing, Lieutenant."_

_His eyes shot up to his eyebrows in mock disbelief, "When have you ever acted like a proper Princess?"_

_She shrugged at that, "When I feel like it."_

_She felt his forehead come forward to bury itself in the crook of her neck and she felt him sigh there, lips briefly settling into a short, brief kiss, raising goosebumps all over her skin as she sighed peacefully in content._

_His head lifted shortly after that and suddenly she was the one been pinned against the bark of the tree-_

_-their tree._

_"If all this was a rouse to get me alone, all you had to do was ask, darling," he told her, grinning, as his blue eyes sparkled up at her, pupils dilated as they darkened in lust, tongue coming out to swipe against his lower lip in a seductive move and damn him-_

_-because he knew what he did to her. Completely._

_And well, if they spent the evening wrapped up in each other, being drugged by each others kisses, it was none of anyone's business. Especially if he stole her first orgasm from her, his name a breathy sigh from her lips as his tongue sought out her lower lips, two fingers curling up inside of her just right._

_And well, if she had to sneak back into her castle past dawn, no one said a word the next day. Not even her mother as she shared a conspiratory glance with her daughter, a smile curving up at the edges of her lips as she saw the way her daughter's face lit up as the Lieutenant walked through the doors for their daily stroll._

"It was a great day, wasn't it?" her husband to be's voice rang out, his eyes staring amusedly down at her as he grinned, smugness radiating out from his dynamic features.

"You have to stop doing that," she grumbled.

He just grinned, index finger tapping her nose as it scrunched up adorably as a result.

"I already told you, sweetheart. Open book," he teased as she spun around to grip the edges of the balcony, looking on happily at people preparing for the ball-

-their wedding. It was almost surreal.

She felt his arms snake around her waist shortly after, coming to rest on her still flat stomach, making her smile and rest her hands lightly over his, intertwining their fingers together as a small smile appeared on her face.

"What did Valencia say?" she felt rather than heard the mumbled question against her neck as his lips moved, brushing against her soft skin.

"Almost three months," she told him, smiling as his hands seemed to move slightly over her stomach, trying to touch every part of her, "And the wedding and balls should be over before I start putting excessive weight on."

He twirled her around at that, eyes sparkling and dancing down at her when she looked up at him, his right hand skimming over the baby bump that would start protruding any day. She was still smiling as he dropped to his knees, pressing kisses along the skin there, whispering promises of unconditional love and all the beauty's of the world.

And just then, she thought, she might be the lucky one after all.

Especially after she walked down the aisle, his awe-struck face focussed on hers as he took her in, her father placing her hand in her groom's as his fingers tightened around her, mouth parted slightly.

"You look breathtaking," he murmured before he kissed her (both before and after he was told he could kiss his bride, much to the audience's amusement).

_Yes_, she was definitely the lucky one.


	6. A Ruined Date

**Prompt: "Emma tries planning a date for her and Killian but everything goes wrong because she doesn't know how to plan a date and Killian finds her and thinks it's so cute she tried?"  
**

**Rated M for smut (but also a lot of fluff and an adorable Emma!).**

**For CS AU Week. Day Two → Canon Divergence. Find me on tumblr at hissaviourqueen.**

**Set vaguely in the future where everything is happy and rainbows and paradise and Emma is herself again.  
**

**\- Shauna! xo**

* * *

"Emma?" he questioned, the sight in front of him... well-

-he wasn't quite sure what the sight in front of him was.

"Killian," she yelped in reply, jumping to her feet immediately and letting a small smile spread over her face, looking rather sheepish (if he was honest with himself).

He raised an eyebrow in reply, glancing around the kitchen (or what was supposedly her kitchen; she had just moved into a new four bedroomed house nearby the ocean).

There was a white powder drifting itself over the marble counter with a rather hazardous looking blue bowl (it had cracks down the side) with some yellow, sticky substance inside and something that looked oddly like crumbs sprinkled over it. There was a burnt... something? towards the edge of the counter and his eyes narrowed in concentration as he tried to figure out what it was or what it was supposed to be.

She was standing stiffly when his eyes trailed back over to her, lips pressed tightly together as her hand twitched and he couldn't help it, she just looked so put out and nervous that he burst out laughing, the chuckle burning from deep inside his chest much to his Swan's dismay.

"Killian," she whined at him, bottom lip jutting out in the process, face transforming into a full pout.

He paid her (or her adorable face) any attention, the laughter coming off him in waves as he gripped onto the marble counter to steady himself as he heaved over.

"It's not that funny," she pouted, eyes narrowing at him as he attempted to control himself.

He tried to speak and control the laughter (he really did) but all that came out was a garbled nonsense and his Swan was certainly not amused if the daggers she was sending his way was any indication.

"I'm-I'm sorry," he finally stuttered out when his breathing returned to normal, a crooked smile lighting up his face as he looked up at her, taking a step towards her.

She just huffed, scowling at him.

He took another look around the kitchen, eyes carefully taking in every detail. He'd missed the sink full of dishes and bowls (each of them different shades of blue; Henry had demanded she decorate the kitchen that colour and she had immediately agreed) slung hazardly, still full of ingredients. What she was trying to make, he had no idea and it wasn't a good idea. _Clearly._

Emma made a point to pointedly ignore cooking in general because by her words, "_I could probably burn toast if I didn't focus._"

Well, she certainly had a point. Except this wasn't toast, this was a big chaos.

He sighed once more, tilting his head to the side to the look at her face and she looked... incredibly upset, that was the only way to phrase it.

"Are you okay?" he questioned.

Her lips were still pressed tightly together, fingers clenched together into two fists and she even looked like she was blinking back tears, moisture gathering in them as she bit her lip. Emma never cried. Apart from that once when they'd extracted the darkness from her but that was extenuating circumstances.

He stared intently as her right hand drifted upwards to rub against her eye and he marched forward, fingers gripping her shoulder as his eyes scanned her, looking for any signs of injury.

"Are you hurt?" he demanded, "Darling, talk to me."

"No," she muttered before her head came to rest in the crook of his neck, lips puffing out against the soft skin there as she breathed out heavily.

His eyes narrowed as his forehead wrinkled in confusion, arms coming to wrap around her waist, tightly, as hers came to wrap around his neck, latching onto the dark hair at the nape. He sighed at the feeling.

"Then what are you? Feeling, that is."

Things were silent for a few minutes as she ignored him, breathing evenly against him and for a second he thought she'd fallen asleep, it wouldn't be the first time she'd managed it standing up. She was a peculiar one.

"I'm mortified," she mumbled against him.

"What?" he questioned, eyebrows raising as he took a step back from her, unwinding her eyes.

She sighed, gaze focussed on the black and white tiles of the floor as she entwined her fingers together before releasing them, repeating the movement several times as she spoke, "It was supposed to be perfect, you know? I just wanted to be good to you since you've been here all along. Through all the way I ignored you for those weeks after... everything, and you're the reason I'm me right now. I was still coming to grips with it and you held me through all the nightmares and even reality and I just wanted to make sure you knew how much I appreciated it and-"

His lips crash down on hers before she can even finish her sentence, his lips hard and soft at the same time but so demanding as they prise hers open, tongue tangling with her own. His hook is digging into the curve of her hip as she steps forward into him, one hand searching out his chest as the other clings around his neck, fingers digging into the soft skin she finds there. She's barely gotten into it properly before he's pulling away, hand lingering around her neck.

She can hardly remember what her thought of line was before because he's suddenly smiling down at her, his grin soft and reassuring as his hand travels down to her back, running soothing patterns there.

His breath is still fanning against her face when he speaks, his tone all gentle and loving, "There's nowhere else I'd rather be than be here with you regardless of the circumstances because you, this, this is it for me."

A huge smile is appearing on her face before she even realises that she'd comprehended his words as she feels warmth spreading throughout her body from a deep spot somewhere within.

Her hands are wrapped around his neck, nose nuzzling against his cheek before she pulls back, smiling up at him, "I love you. I know I don't say it a lot, especially after... last time but I do love you, Killian, and I want you to know that."

He's suddenly smiling down at her, blue eyes sparkling in their joy as his left hand rubs against her cheek, thumb caressing slowly as his hook moves continuously against her hip, movements slow almost as though he's trying to reassure her.

"And I, you."

Then-

-she's suddenly being flashed out of the room and before she knows it, she's being pressed against the hard concrete of her wall at the side of the entrance to her bedroom, his lips hard and heavy against hers as they pry out small gasps of his name, his tongue delving into the warm caves of her mouth on the first sign of weakness.

His tongue is curled around hers as she hitches a leg around his waist, rocking her hips into his, his own mouth parting on a gasp which makes her release a happy hum against him and if the way his length twitches, pressed against her, is any indication he rather likes the sound. His hips are suddenly rocking back against her, frantically, as his hand travels under her tank top, searching out the pale perfection that is her skin.

She releases out a loud gasp when his hand curls around her breast through the black lace of her bra as her head slams backwards against the wall, their mouths disconnecting as his lips search out the length of her neck, moving along her jaw to that wonderful place at the base that just drives her wild (and he knows it). His teeth dig in suddenly, nibbling and soothing it over with his tongue, clearly determined on leaving a mark (it was nothing unusual really; he was a _pirate_).

Marking her as _his_.

"Killian," she manages to gasp out, much to his delight as he hums against her pale skin, hand groping onto her breast more firmly as his thumb reaches inside to twirl against her nipple.

_God_, he was good.

She feels the smug smile on his face against her skin as his mouth travels down to her chest, nose nuzzling there as his lips trail over the swells of her breast, hook coming up to rip her red tank top into shreds, immediately pulling the offending material away as her laced bra comes to the same fait.

"Killian," she whines, "I'm never going to have any clothes left if you-"

He cuts her off, mouth reaching up to hers again as he demands entrance, hook and hand forcing her legs to encircle his waist as he pushes his still clothed length against her, moaning continuously into his mouth. She's still groaning against him as he pushes off the wall, hand gripping her firm ass in his palm, massaging, as he stumbles his way into her bedroom (by this point he knows it _very_ intimately).

She's thrown down on the mattress immediately and he follows not two seconds after but she's very happy to find out he's at least got rid of his shirt and vest, sighing when her chest meets the bare skin of his. Her legs are wrapped around him as their clothed bottom halfs grind against each other, sighing into one another's mouths in pleasure.

But-

-it's still not enough.

Sighing in annoyance, she shoves him away with a hard push, "Clothes. Off. Now."

Damn, pirate, because he's suddenly smirking at her-

-that really smug one that she often wants to punch off his face but then he's unbuckling his belt from his dark jeans so she forgives him.

He's naked soon enough and she's still staring (not have moved an inch), mouth parted slightly as she takes in the wonders of his body.

"See something you like, darling?" he questions, grinning, as he steps forward to rid her of her own jeans and she hears the rip of her underwear as he drags them both down the long pale skin that is her legs.

He rolls his eyes at the obvious displeasure on her face, yanking her forward by her hips as he kneels down at the bottom of the bed, tongue moving slowly over his bottom lip in a clearly seductive move.

She grits her teeth because as much as she loves him going down on her, she was going to burst if he just wouldn't-

"Killian. You don't have to- Ohh," she trails off, mouth opening on a very loud moan as her head tips backwards, one hand gripping the red, satin sheets beneath her fingertips and the other one diving into the dark hair belonging to the man whose head was currently beneath her shaking thighs, clenching it tightly in her fists as to keep him there forever.

"That's it," he mutters against her, mouth seeking out her pearly button as he rams two fingers inside her, curling and scissoring them inside of her.

"Killian," she groans out, fingers clenching even rougher in his hair and pulling him closer (if that was even possible).

He grins against her, mouth sucking her clit between his teeth as she shrieks, back bowing from the bed, moaning even louder now. His fingers never cease their movements as he speeds up the movements of his mouth, taking in her glorious essence as his tongue travels the length of her slit.

He feels her clenching around his fingers as he lets out a groan of his own, "That's it, Swan. Come on, come for me."

Her thighs are locked around his head, shaking, as she finally reaches that bliss deep inside of her, Killian greedily licking up the evidence of her orgasm, tongue slowing as he calms her down, hand resting on her heaving stomach.

When she comes back too, he's wrapping her legs around his waist, length, hard and waiting against her stomach, twitches against her as she shifts slightly, eyes finally coming up to his.

He grins at her, "There you are."

She groans at him, hand swatting against him, ignoring his "Oi! Watch the goods, love."

"Good you sound anymore smug?"

"Do I have any reason not to be?" he challenges, "After all, you did just come on my tongue, rather enthusiastically, I might add."

She sighs, pouting slightly, "I was supposed to making it up to you."

Her hand is drifting passed his stomach, twirling around the head of his length and reaching down to fondle his balls as his head lolls backwards, a loud groan of "Emma" reaching her ears as she grins.

He lets her touch him before he suddenly starts forward, gripping her hands in his steel grasp and pinning them above her head and onto the pillows with his hook keeping them in place.

"Later," he tells her, "Right now I need to ravish you."

She grins at him and lays backwards, relaxing against the sheet and raising her eyebrows, "Then ravish away, captain."

He growls at that, mouth coming down onto hers as he simultaneously slams into her with one thrust, legs shaking around him as her an unintelligable sound makes it way out of her mouth, much to her own dismay and his pleasure.

Once his deep inside, he circles his hips in a way he's learned drives her absolutely crazy, clearly, as she releases a long moan of "God, yes, Killian."

He groans at that, pulling out so slowly it's almost delicious torture before his buried inside her again with one quick thrust, much to both of their delight. He sets a frantic rhythm after that, the need for release too great for him to last too long.

Her legs are shaking around his hips as she inches them higher, in search of the right spot. His cold hook grasps her left thigh, hips angled forward as he places it on his shoulder and bending her knee towards her chest, much to her delight, now moaning continuously and loudly.

He feels the beginning of her orgasm as she tightens around him slightly, his hand coming down to rub roughly against her clit, her head tipping backwards. He immediately takes advantage of the position, leaning forward and licking up the cave of her neck, teeth digging roughly into a forming mark from earlier. The change of the angel must be good for her because she's suddenly gasping out his name on a broken sigh and he knows she's coming around him, clenching around his length like a vice.

His hips are still moving frantically against hers, pounding into her, when she comes back too, staring up at him in wonder.

Jaw clenched, he soon feels her clenching around him for a second time and not wanting to leave her half way there, his hand sneaks over her stomach, rubbing against her clit once more.

"Come on, sweetheart. One more, just give me one more. You're close now, aren't you?" she's nodding frantically at him, both as the answer to his question and her desire for him to continue as she clenches around him.

"I need to feel you around me. You feel so tight and warm around me, love, it's heaven. Come on, just one more."

Her mouth parts on a very loud scream as he rips her orgasm from her and milking his own out in the process, hips coming to a slow stop and collapsing against her as her arms wrap around his waist, fingernails digging into him.

Her eyes are flickering behind her closed lids as he pulls out and drops at the side of her, arm searching her waist as he pulls her against him.

They're both silent for a few minutes, trying to catch their breath and she twists in his arms, coming face to face with him on the pillow as she smiles softly at him, hand tracing the length of his jaw, softly.

She's still smiling as her eyes flutter close, sighing with content.

"Are you ever going to tell me what your attempt was in the kitchen?"

"Killian," she groans out, eyes flying open.

"What? I'm curious."

"Pie."

He laughs at that, "Maybe you should leave that to your mother."

"I plan to," she tells him, still smiling.

He taps her on the nose suddenly, her face scrunching up in that adorable way it sometimes does before he pulls away, plopping a teethy kiss on it instead.

He shrugs at the looks she sends him, "You had some flour on your otherwise perfect face, my love."

She's still smiling as she pulls the covers up to them, still facing him.

Something suddenly occurs to him as he frowns, "Just what did you have planned for us tonight?"

"Nothing better than what did occur," she teases him.

"No. Seriously."

She shrugs, "Nothing special, I was just going to make dinner and watch Netflix over a nice bottle of red wine and ask you-" she cuts herself off at that, eyes widening.

"Ask me what?" he looks confused (adorably so: he could be a cute puppy when he wanted to).

She bites her lip in hesitation as she glances downwards, "Nothing."

"Emm-"

"To move in with me," she quickly mutters, her desire not to have this conversation clearly evident.

He clearly understands not to make this a big deal with the look on her face. He knows her well (better than anyone, really).

_"Open book," he once teased her_ (and still usually does).

Instead of going for a very emotional reply he just smirks at her, "I haven't already?"

"I meant officially," she corrected him, "I thought we could go down to the locksmith and have a key done."

He's smiling up at her suddenly, all happy and bright, as his teeth gleam in the poorly lit room.

"Of course. It would be nice not to have to keep going back to my ship when I run out of clothes," he teases, shutting her up with his lips when she goes to retort back to him.

His lips are still moving enthusiastically when he rolls them over, settling into the cradle of her thighs and pulls the thin sheet over their heads, hands trailing down over her form.

Round two it was.


	7. Belonging

**Prompt: "Killian gets flinchy around David after the AU."**

**Set sometime after the season four finale and the squad are on their way to Camelot. Just so you all know: I'm not even going to follow the line of the spoilers because this occured to me so yeah...**

**\- Shauna! xo**

* * *

Killian, David, Mary Margaret, Regina and Robin were currently sat in the Sorcerer's mansion, books piled over each of their laps and across the entire floor of the very spacious library.

Killian sighed, his jaw clenching in effort not to do anything he'd regret and breathed through his mouth, tipping his head back and pinching the bridge of his nose.

It had been two months. Two months since Emma had sacrificed herself for the good of the town and it felt remarkably like an eternity. The days had dragged by with the nights even worse; filled with drinking and eventually passing out onto the hard floor of the Jolly Roger.

The queen certainly wasn't helping matters, especially when she'd drug Emma's name through the mud.

_"How could she be so stupid?" Regina's loud voice rung out into the street, her voice irritated on a rhetorical question._

_His jaw clenched, tongue ticking against the skin of his mouth as he growled out, fingers twitching where they lay restless at his sides. Could she be any more ungrateful? In fact, if she wasn't Henry's mother he'd have gladly killed her._

_He was up on his feet, cramming into her personal space before he realised what had happened, Robin's arms immediately restraining him as David marched forward to help, hurt evident on his face. _

_"Don't do anything stupid, Killian," David warned him, his eyes staring down at him._

_"Maybe she should watch her mouth then," he growled at, gaze seeping through the two men near him and scowling at the woman who called herself redeemed. Someone needed to put her in place._

_As soon as his hands came into contact with the soft skin of his neck, he immediately shrunk back with his eyes flaring, scanning the area for danger._

_Robin and David both looked shocked at his behaviour, their shoulders touching as they stood in front of him._

_"Wha-"_

_"It's fine," he muttered, barging past with his broad shoulders knocking into Robin and carefully managing to avoid touching David at all costs._

_He had crouched down to pick up the silver dagger (laced with a dark, black handle) which had his love's name sprawled across in curly, fancy handwriting. It read Emma Swan. He had known that this would be the result but nothing could have prepared him for this, to deal with this._

_Almost three hundred years he'd spent aiming to kill the dark one and now it was the woman he loved more than life itself name written across it. Huh. The irony._

_He chuckled out loud, the sound dark and unfamiliar to his own ears._

_Apparently he had spoken that out loud because Mary Margaret's hands were curled around his hands holding the dagger and when he looked up, her dark eyes were staring into his, full of so much empathy that he didn't want to see._

_"We'll get her back, Killian. We will," she insisted, "We're family and we don't give up. We always find our way back to each other."_

_David had snuck up behind her, wrapping his right arm around his wife's waist as he shot a soft smile up at the pirate._

_He ignored that. He was in no need to be comforted; a hug and a smile would not make this better, nothing would. She was gone to god know's where and for god know's how long._

_He hadn't even had the chance to tell her he loved her too. He thinks that stung the most._

_Standing in the dark, poorly lit street he could practically still see the tears brimming over the edges of her eyes as she looked up at him, lips shaking slightly. She had brought his hand up to cover her chest right over her beating heart followed by the broken whisper of "I love you"._

_If he'd of just acted faster, willed his legs to move, he could of stopped-_

_The dagger was still in his hands, the metal cool and unforgiving as he curled his hand around the edge of the blade._

_Her parents clearly saw his intention as they shot into action, "Killian, no-"_

_"Dark one, I summon thee."_

"I've found it," a loud voice broke through his reverie, causing his head to snap up in reply.

Henry. It was Henry.

Regina was suddenly standing, rushing forward to greet her son with what he supposed was meant to be a reassuring smile for the boy. Robin was following closely behind, his hand coming to rest against her back.

The other couple was still sitting, though their ears peaked up at the mention of their news.

If he wasn't so lost in his own self pity, he'd feel sorry for them too. He wasn't the only one who'd lost her. Henry had lost a mother, they'd lost a mother so why did he feel so damn alone in his grief? It felt as though she'd _died_.

"-Killian."

Apparently he'd be so lost in his thoughts, he'd missed what the young lad was telling him, "Hmm?"

He was smiling softly at him and the motion was so much like his mothers, the soft edges of his lips almost mocking, that it suddenly made him want to cry.

"We need to go to Camelot."

He felt himself sigh with relief, at least it was something. Because he needed something. Some hope to cling to, some faith that he'd get her back. That she was okay.

He even allowed a small smile to overtake his features, eyes locking with Henry's as he grinned hopefully up at the pirate, his jade eyes sparkling.

Yes, he could allow himself to hope.

**XXX**

"Are you okay?"

He almost groaned out loud at the sound of Mary Margaret's voice calling out to him, the sound of her shuffling footsteps echoing as she came to stand by him.

"As well as the rest of you, I suppose," he responded, eyes still focussed on the ocean.

They'd taken off for Camelot not twenty four hours after Henry had delivered the news who had stayed home with his grandfather, much to his dismay-

-_"She's my mother, I should at least get to come to make sure she's okay," he had protested._

_"We don't know what dangers we'll face there, lad," Killian had tried arguing with him._

_"But the rest of you are going," he even pouted a little, reminiscent of his mother when she couldn't get her own way. He'd smiled slightly at the face, fake and forced as he stared down at the boy._

_"Someone needs to make sure the town is still breathing," he tried, shooting him a wink._

_His face had lit up at that, smiling and wrapping his arms around Killian, the lad's face buried in his chest and he swore he felt a tear or two staining the soft material of his dark shirt. Small hands had dug into his back and a slightly larger smile had overtook his face, arms wrapping back around him._

_"Make sure you stay safe. Do what you have to for you to get back," Henry told him, in a stern voice that was eerily like his father's._

_"I will," he promised._

He focussed barely in time to hear his love's mother quietly berating him.

"Take care of yourself," she told him, eyes narrowing into slits as she placed a hand on his arm.

"What?"

She sighed in response.

"Your scent is drenched in rum," she told him, nose wrinkling slightly.

He grumbled under his breath.

"It's been hard on of all us, Emma's disappearance. You I suspect more than us and the rum won't help matters," she told him, the stern tone of her voice cutting him sharp (it was the same one _she_ used when she was berating Henry for something).

He shrinked at the mention of her name, it had rarely been said to him after she had disappeared and he hadn't dared himself to think it, let alone speak it out loud. It was just too painful.

-"I know I have Charming and Henry has Regina who has Robin," she was continuing, "But you must feel like you don't have anyone. You have us. You can rely on us but start by getting rid of the alcohol, it gives off the impression that it's helping but it really is not."

And suddenly, he felt like a small child, being berated by an adult for thieving.

Nonetheless, he allowed a small smile to grace his features, nodding at her. She smiled back at him, the dimple in her chin protruding just like her daughter's did. The reminders of her were all around him and it stung, his heart beating quicker in his chest at the memory of her.

"You're family now," she told him, smiling, "And my daughter wouldn't forgive me if there wasn't the man she loved to come home to."

He actually let out a small chuckle at that, "I knew I was winning you over."

She rolled her eyes at him.

"Now, are you going to tell me why you're so uncomfortable in my husband's presence?"

This time, he did groan out loud.

**XXX**

The next part was an entire blur to him, being greeting by the guards of Camelot and creating a gameplan with the rest of the people who had come with him.

The only thing he knew was after a quick and relieved shout of "Killian", he suddenly had his love back in his arms, her face buried in his chest as she clenched her nails into the nape of his neck, his dark hair tickling against her long, pale fingers.

"Emma," he breathed into her golden hair, his arms tightening around her as hers did the same.

Moisture was clouding his vision as he stood frozen, fingers curling in as he let himself breathe. Finally. Let himself believe that everything was going to be okay and if she was going to be in his arms (where she belonged), he really believed everything would be.

He felt everybody's eyes on them, felt the relief of the Prince and his wife as they looked on but he didn't care much. He finally had her back and everything was right in the world.

She was pulling back too soon, eyes searching for his and grinning at him-

-so bright and happy that he felt like his heart was going to burst in his chest.

Her fingers were still curled around his neck, searching for his hair and latching on, leaning forward to press her lips softly against hers. Sighing against her, he pulled her closer, hook running patterns against the clothed material of her back as his hand dove into her blonde curls and tipping her head sideways, changing the angle of the kiss.

She let out a happy hum against him, tongue swiping against his lower lip to which he immediately opened, allowing her entrance and then her tongue was curling around his, committing a familiar dance they had perfected by now.

Too soon, she was pulling away, pressing a chaste kiss to his bottom lip before smiling up at him, the liquid in her jade eyes sparkling.

"I love you," he whispered, smiling down at her, "I love you."

"And I, you."


	8. Voicemails

**CS**** \+ "Write an embarrassing**** voicemail scene".**

* * *

Killian groans, hand dragging heavily down his face as he came too, the brightness momentarily blinding him as the sun shone through the dark curtains.

Propped up on one elbow, he saw the talking phone-

-_"It's just a phone, Killian,_" _Swan had insisted._

_"Well, that's not very inventive is it, my dear Swan?" He had retorted, sarcasm dripping off his tongue._

_Emma had merely sighed in response and gave up on the topic.-_

-lighting up blue and he immediately shielded his eyes from the glow.

Lifting the phone, his forehead crinkled when he realised he's missed a call. Or precisely 34 and 10 awaiting voicemails.

Pressing a button, he sighs when Emma's voice drifts through the speaker.

"Kill- Killi," she giggles uncontrollably (and when does Emma Swan giggle), unable to spit his name out and yepp, his Swan was definitely drunk last night.

"Oh my god," her happy voice echoes in his ear and he can't help the way his lips pull up into a smile and the sheer joy in her voice. "Killy, why haven't I ever called you that before?"

He sighs at her drunk shenanigans, resiting himself to the fate of the given nickname.

"Well," she coughs and her voice is slightly more controlled when she speaks again. "That's our thing now. I'm going to call you Killy."

He hears a distinctive set of two giggles and he briefly wonders who she is with.

"Ruby," he suddenly hears he chastise someone and realises that she's with the wolf. "I'm trying to talk to my pirate."

(In his mind, he sees her fake stern expression the way she always does when his language gets too much around Henry, bottom lip jutting out, accept it would be more adorable in her current state.)

"My pirate," she sighs into the phone and the shit eating grin on his face just widens at her slurred words.

"You know what, my pirate?" She asks him and he lets out a low chuckle at the other new moniker-

-oh, how he was never going to let her forget about this!

"I miss you," and he just knows she's pouting again. "Why aren't you here?"

"You're the one who insisted on girls night, Swan," he mutters to himself.

"I know I wanted girls night," her words are getting increasingly more slurred now. "But I want you here, I want to ravish my pirate."

He's shaking his head at this point, wondering how the good people of Storybrooke allowed the saviour to be this drunk.

"You want to know a secret," she fake whispers. "I'm going to leave soon and come to that ship of yours and ravish you like you've never been ravishes before, Killy."

He raises an eyebrow as he glances at the clock, noting that it was almost 9am.

"But first," she tells him and he imagines she's holding a finger up clumsily. "I'm going to down a bottle of tequila, Ruby's very persuasive."

He hears a thud and realises she must of dropped the phone.

A set of giggles echoes through the speaker once more.

"Oops," Swan manages to get out between giggles. "Dropped the phone."

You don't say, Swan.

"But I'll be there in an hour and you better be ready for me to ride you like there's no tomorrow, my Killy pirate," she warns him-

-though, really, it's a turn on more than anything.

"Toodles."

He stares dumbly at the phone as the dial tone registers with him before he's spurring into action, leather jacket slung hazardly over his shoulders and marches out of the captain's quarters.

Half an hour later, he's standing at her door with a charming smile edged over his lips and a paper bag hanging loosely by his side.

Emma looks unimpressed as she opens the door but snatches the bag out of his hand and stomps back inside, leaving the door open. He chuckles, taking it as a hint and plops down next to her on the sofa, watching people dance around the screen.

(And yes, they did finally get around to that Netflix and chill that Swan had promised him.)

He waits for the shoe to drop, smirking smugly at her as her hooded eyes focus on the screen.

He sees it the moment she does, her head falling back against the sofa and a "oh, shit," pouring from her lips.

"Language, Swan," he admonishes, eyes widening.

"Oh, shut up," she mumbles, hand wafting at his chest.

(She does shut him up, rather thoroughly as delivers on her promise from the night before.)

("Is that the ravishing I was promised?" He teases her as he collapses against her chest.)

(Emma just takes it upon herself to shot him all the ways she can shut him up and he decides he quite likes being silenced by his Swan.)


	9. Expiration Date

**"You told me you loved me and then took it back."**

**I have no idea when this is set but it's some dark swan so enjoy!**

**\- Shauna! xo**

**XXX**

Killian gaped, staring at the wooden door as it still shook lightly within its frame. The door which Emma had disappeared through not five minutes earlier.-

-_Killian groaned as his hips worked themselves, pumping in and out of her with a ferocity that she clearly liked, Emma's nails scraping down his back harshly._

_He let out a loud moan, back arching as he worked himself into her, her tight sheath finally clenching around him as she milked him for all he was worth._

_His hand came down to thumb against her pearly button, hips flexing as her orgasm prolonged and she was clenching now stop. His hips stilled as he found his own release, eyes squeezing shut and collapsing against her with an exhausted sigh._

_Sniffing her hair, he bowed his head into her neck as he sighed, finally content._

_However, it wasn't five minutes later when two cold hands were pushing up against his shoulders and he was collapsing against the opposite side of the bed with a huff._

_"The hell, love?" He asked, forehead crumpling as he saw her jumping out of the bed, hands rapidly redressing herself._

_She shrugged, smoothing down her new dark clothes. "You've been a great fuck and all but I'm going to take off."_

_With that, she twirled around and a sachire grin etched across her lips as she edged towards him, sauntering across the room. She let a hand trail down his chest, resting along his happy trail as her eyelashes fluttered, peering up at him from beneath them._

_"Emma," he whispered, eyebrows etching together as he stared down at her in concern._

_"Oh, Killian," she sighed, head shaking mockingly at him. "Do you really believe she actually loves you?"_

_Her voice was mocking and so he continued staring in disbelief._

_"Emma's gone," she tells him, almost statically. "And she's not coming back."_

_And with that, she disappeared with the door slamming shut behind her.-_

-He may be in idiot. In fact, he was certainly was but he followed her, dark jeans hurriedly closing around his waist because well, he was Killian Jones and he never gave up. He waited three hundred years for revenge, he would wait a lifetime for her.

**XXX**

"You can't do that," she hisses at him when he's (finally) healed, dry blood edging at the top of his forehead.

"Can't do what?" He asks innocently, shoulders shrugging and wincing as the ache still remains.

"That," she glares, staring at the scar on his shoulder. "I may not want you dead, pirate, but it has an expiration date and you are easily replaced."

"Am I?" He asks, smirking. "Because I know you don't really believe that."

"Don't I?" She hisses, standing up. "Because I don't love you, I never did."

He visibly winces, the comment stinging on his insecurities more than she knew. Or maybe she did, judging by the pleased smirk she was currently wearing.

"You might actually believe that," he says slowly, standing up and marching across the room until they're less than two centimetres apart and wearing a little smirk of his own. "But deep down, you don't really believe that. Do you?"

She merely huffs at him, glare heated as she growls.

"I think," he emphasises, hand light as he trails it across her waist. "That you do love me, regardless of the fact that you took it back and you're afraid that you, the real you, will shine through if I were to be in danger."

By the end of his speech, her glare has become more heated and her lips are pressed firmly together. However, there's something different in her eyes. Something's softer and forgiving.

This time, he knows it's Emma poking through. Knows it's finally his Swan that is peaking through.

Her walls, however, are back up before he can plead with her, eyes hard as her face scrunches up into a scowl. "Don't flatter yourself, captain. Your necessary survival could come to an end quite soon."

He shoots her a look that shows how much he doesn't believe her. That makes two of them.

"But do keep that pretty face out of harm, hmm? I have plans for it yet," she tells him, voice seductive as her hips sway under the tight material.

"Oh, yeah?" He asks, humming under his breath as he grips her waist tightly in his palm, hook running down her back and grinning as she lets out a shiver.

"Mm," she breathes against him, lips practically touching his as her breath fans out against his face. "Let me show you?" She asks, almost hesitantly as she holds out her hand, and it's almost a soft movement this time.

(And he doesn't hesitate when taking it, letting her pull him down the street and smiling happily when she relaxes against him, the content sigh he loves so much slipping from her loops.)

(She merely makes the harsh words up to him as she groans out very different words, begging him to take her and explaining vividly in all the ways that she was his.)

(And boy, you better believe that went both ways as she rode him into oblivion not long after.)


	10. Reminiscing

She's a vision as she walks down the stairs, footsteps careful and her hand clenched tightly in her mother's. She's dressed in a white dress with a tight bodice which flows beautifully from her small waist. Her hair is practically glistening in the moonlight as her blonde curls frame her pale face, a row of pretty flowers surrounding her like a halo.

His Swan is smiling brightly at her mother, that little dimple in her chin growing as she faces out to the crowd.

He's breathless by the time she's stepped towards him, eyes dancing down at him as she gives him a little bow.

"You look..." He trails off, astonished at her sudden appearance.

Her smile is so beautiful and happy as she grins at him, "I know."

He chuckles at that, the phrase so eerily familiar from that one night he was nervous about that long ago.

Bowing, he reaches for her hand and brings it up to his mouth, lips brushing softly over her knuckles in a lingering kiss. His eyes are full of mischief as they look up at her, smile pulling up into a wide grin, emphasising his own dimples.

"Your highness," he begins, lips thin with his grin. "May I have this dance?"

Emma looks as though she's barely restraining an eyeroll but merely smiles at him, bending down into another short curtsy before reaching down to tighten their fingers.

"You may," she tells him.

He grins, pulling her into his arms as she grasps onto his hook, her other hand coming up to wrap into the hair at the nape of his neck (it seems to be an Emma thing, one he's grown to love).

His arm is wound tightly around her waist as the music begins, Emma immediately forming into the perfect shape as she follows his steps like the natural she is, hand smoothing down onto his shoulder.

"So," she begins in an almost casual tone. "Do you know what you're doing?"

He grins, recognising the turn of the conversation.

"Hm," he pretends to be deep in thought. "I don't know if I do, love."

"That's too bad," she sighs. "I was told to choose a partner who knew what he was doing. Perhaps if I ask-"

"No," he growls, pushing on her back so that her chest presses tightly into his. "You're staying exactly where you are."

Her head slips backwards as she laughs and the sound is so bright and so Emma that he suddenly wants to cry.

"Don't worry," she rushes to reassure him, words quick. "There's nowhere I'd rather be."

"Good," he sighs as she relaxes into him, head dropping to his neck as his head falls on top of hers, sniffing her hair. "I can live with that."

"Me too," she murmurs, words muffled into his neck, her lips sending shivers all along his spine as they come into contact with his neck.

And damn his little vixen, because from the smirk he felt pressing against him she knew about the affect she had on him.

Suddenly, Emma pulls back and her lips come crashing down on his though the weight of them are feather light, almost fearful. He lets out a groan deep in his throat, hand tightening at her waist as he attempts to deepen the kiss, tongue lapping against her bottom lip in an attempt for her to open it.

She lets out a small chuckle against him as her lips part, tongues immediately performing a dance they've long since perfected. He doesn't have time to really appreciate it though because she's pulling back from him, grin spreading at the way he chases her lips (it's been a long week and he's not quite had his fill of her just yet but then again, he's not sure he ever will).

"What was that?" He gasps when she's far enough away that he can catch her eyes.

Emma merely shrugs.

"I wanted to do that at the last ball and I was too afraid to make the first move but now, now I can kiss you whenever I want," she finishes, eyes sparkling up at him once more.

"That you can, love, " he breathes before attaching their lips in a brief kiss.

He's still grinning as they circle around the others, Dave and Mary Margaret smiling happily at their daughter as Robin dances with Regina.

"You look beautiful, stunning, beyond words," he tells her finally, almost not quite a words. "You look like..." A bride he wants to say but not quite sure how'll she would take that so settles for the less intense but still true, "like that dress was made for you."

She doesn't recognise his almost slip up or simply ignores it, taking for a smile and quiet, "Thank you."

Emma seems put off for a moment before seemingly shaking it off and shooting him a teasing smile. "Does that mean I cut quite the figure in this dress too?"

He laughs at that, practically bellows it out into the large ballroom as they reminisce from the first ball they attended together.

"That you do, Swan," he tells her, left simple protruding as he smirks crookedly at her, hand travelling slightly lower and taking pleasure at the way her breath hitches in her throat. "That you do."

She hums, a sound low in her throat as they come to a gradual stop, some royal making an announcement.

"Would you care to leave?" He asks, voice low in her ear as he leans over her.

"Yes," she breaths out. "I really would."

**XXX**

"Where are we?" Her voice is full of wander as she questions him, staring dimly around the garden as she wonders of their whereabouts.

He shoots her a shrug. "Away."

"Helpful," she laughs.

Their arms swing as they venture further in, Emma's fingers and tightening around his. His brows furrow together at the notion, eyes flashing to hers in concern. "Are you okay?"

(And well, it didn't mean to come out that demanding.)

She laughs him off though he knows her well enough now to know that it's fake, put on to make him feel better. She runs her free hand through her curls as she nods. "I'm fine, Killian."

"No you're not," he counters, eyebrows raising as if daring her to lie to him again.

"Okay, I'm not," she agrees. "But can we both agree that I will be?"

He's not quite sure he agrees but nods anyway and this time, he's the one tightening their grips and she shoots him a small smile.

His hand trails over the bush as he fingers over a light pink flower, the buds tickling his finger as he pulls.

"How about this?" He asks, blue eyes sparkling up at her as he gives her a light smile, hand holding the flower up delicately.

She grins, fingers brushing over his as she accepts the flower and brings it up to her nose, eyes fluttering as she sniffs.

"It's beautiful," she tells him with her voice low and quiet.

He grins back, stealing a kiss from her lips as he reaches down, fingers tangling in her blonde locks. Her hands come up to rest at his neck, one hand tangling in his hair as she yanks his head to the side for a better angle.

He groans into her mouth as her tongue snakes it's way into his mouth, groaning again as her fingers tighten in his hair.

Her right hand feathers down his chest, twisting his chest hair that's on display before trailing along his spine and beneath his coat, resting just at the bottom of his back. Her fingers sneak just under the line of his trousers.

He suddenly yelps, pulling her hand with his and detaching from her lips.

"And suddenly," he begins, voice raspy. "I think we're in dangerous territory that will severely test my control."

She laughs though he takes pleasure in the fact that it's breathless, face moving back from his slightly though it's quite seductive.

"Maybe you should get use to it," she flirts, eyes glistening with lust.

He laughs, arms swinging once more as they make their way back.

Yes. He could most certainly get use to this.


	11. Boy Or Girl?

**"Can you do something where Killian is super hungover and Emma takes care of him?"**

_**Because we all need this right now. Set vaguely in the future.**_

* * *

He remembers rum and rum and not much of anything else.

(He briefly recalls how Will and Robin had dragged him into the Rabbit for a few drinks.)

_"It's customary," Will had protested highly._

_He had raised an eyebrow._

_"Is that so?"_

_Robin had nodded in response._

_He'd made a face but eventually agreed to it in the end._

_"I'm sure Emma wouldn't mind a night off from you," Robin told him quietly with a small smile._

_"Might even appreciate it," Will muttered under his breath._

_"Oi!"_

_Robin had come to break it up with a roll of his eyes._

_"We just want to offer our congratulations," he said, eyes bright. "It's not everyday a pirate and a saviour are expecting."_

_He'd snorted but grinned (as he always did when someone mentioned Emma was pregnant, he still couldn't believe it himself half the time) and butted in, "Former pirate."_

_"Take it from a former thief, those days are never behind you," Robin retorted, sarcasm and mockery filtering through his tone._

_He shook his head, grinning to himself but he reached forward and patted Robin across the back._

_"Where are we going then?"_

_"Where else?" Will grouched. "Not much other places to go to in a small town, is there?"_

_He shrugged, "I suppose not."_

Now he thinks about it, he can remember Dave briefly making an appearance.

He groans as his eyes open, the light blinding him and he immediately slaps his arm over his eyes, muttering a low, "Turn the lights off."

He hears a snort from somewhere next to him.

"Those lights happen to be the sun, dummy," comes the retort, the voice that is so usually wonderful, now threatening to his head.

"Shh," he tells her, sloppily reaching forward with his left hand to press his index finger to her lips. "No talking."

He hears her magical laugh and he imagines she's just shaken her head.

He peeks through his fingers and she's grinning at him, laughing slightly.

"Rough night?" she asks.

He huffs but doesn't dignify it with a response but the way he furrows his eyebrows and how his forehead crumples slightly, wrinkles lining his forehead is enough of an indication of an answer.

Her eyes are bright - too bright - as she leans forward and she looks far too happy about his misery for his own liking but she rests her cool hands on his head, smoothing out the lines and it feels nice, the contrast of her cool hands on his heated skin.

"Better?"

He hums, eyes closing and he's close to drifting off again, the feeling of her fingers rubbing against his temples soothing when she speaks up.

"You're lucky you made it back in one piece last night."

His eyes flash open and he grimaces before shooting her a knowing smile.

"Pirate," he reminds her.

She snorts, "Or your lucky my dad drop by for a while."

"That too."

He feels her shuffle closer to him and he moves closer to her in response until his head is nestled in her lap and she has easier access to his pounding head.

He's almost purring as she rubs circles and he hears her giggle.

"Shush," he murmurs though it lacks force.

She giggles again - and it's such a lovely sight. Emma I have a thousand walls that you can't break down Swan, actually giggling.

His eyes open again and his head tips back further as he looks up, her curls hanging loosely in front of his face.

"How's our little one today?" he asks, head dipping back against her bump pointedly and voice gentle as it always is when he thinks about their child - they're going to have a baby-

-and he's going to be a dad and some days he still doesn't believe it.

Her smile is just as soft as his voice and her hand travels down, resting lightly over her stomach and resting in between strands of his hair.

"Think he's relieved you made it back in one piece," she teases.

He huffs, "We've been over this, Swan. She," he emphasises.

"He."

"She."

"Killian," she shoots him a playful glare, "It's going to be a boy."

His lips twitch despite himself, "We'll see."

She huffs, "Yes, we will."

He groans as a wave a nausea overtakes him, closing his eyes, and he prepares to make a dash for the bathroom when a glass of water is held in front of him.

He raises an eyebrow as his eyes flutter open.

Emma rolls her eyes.

"You should have seen the state you were in last night," she tells him - he bites back the sarcastic "I know, I was there" reply - placing two white pills into his palm, "It was quite obvious you were going to need these.

He rolls up on his elbows, chucks the pills down his throat and takes a long gulp-

-he's long since stopped questioning the wonders they had here to make you feel better.

He rolls back onto his side shortly after, staring up at his true love as she smiles softly down at him, knees crossed and her hand resting lightly on her swollen stomach.

His eyes narrow (it's seriously easier to stomach the light that way) but he reaches forward with his tentative left hand, joining hers on her stomach and her hand tightens around his, slipping it beneath hers so he's rubbing soothing circles onto her clothed skin.

"I love you," he murmurs but his eyes are on her stomach and he's not quite sure who he's said it to-

-Emma or their little one-

-because he loves them both-

-he loves them both so much with an intensity that he didn't even know he was capable of.

When his eyes finally flicker back up to hers, she's smiling and there's tears in her eyes, moisture welling up.

Her voice cracks when she speaks, a wide grin on her lips, "And we love you."

He grins and she leans down, blonde locks splaying across his chest and presses her lips onto his though she keeps it light and pulls back less than a moment later. He follows her lips as she presses her forehead to his.

"It's still going to be a boy though," she murmurs, breath fanning out against his lips.

"Swan," he sighs.

She grins, pulling back with false innocence written all over her face.

"What? It is," she insists.

(It is a boy and she grins smugly at him as she holds their baby boy in her arms, littering kisses over his red face. Killian rolls his eyes at her but she knows he isn't too bothered. How could he be? When they have this perfection in their arms.)

(They call him Liam. Liam Swan Jones, though, he mostly goes by Jones. And he's the spitting image of his uncle.)


	12. Reciprocations

**Prompt: "You just got your tonsils removed so I showed up with ten pints of ice cream and this might be bad timing but you should know that I've had a crush on you for years."**

**For the lovely charmingturkeysandwich on tumblr.**

* * *

Killian hears a knock at the door before a mop of blonde curls poke their way through.

"Emma," he sighs, voice hoarse.

She gives him a soft smile as she comes through the door, shutting it quietly behind her. She comes to a stop at the foot of his hospital bed, eyes smiling down at him.

"How are you?" she asks him softly.

He raises an eyebrow, sarcasm on his tongue automatically.

"Could be better," he retorts.

She lets out a small laugh at that before glancing down at her hands.

"Oh," she says, "I brought you some ice cream. I know how you get about that cheap crap, which, you snob by the way, so-"

He mutters an, "Oy," though it lacks force due to the weakness that's overtaken him and wow, those pain killers really did work wonders.

"-so," she raises her voice slightly, "I brought you the Ben and Jerry's one you love so much," she finishes, glaring at him when he interrupts.

"I just went through surgery, Swan," he pouts, "You're suppose to be nice to me."

She snorts and holds up the ice cream tub up for emphasis.

"But thank you, love," he tells her, tone as soft as he can manage.

She's watching him as she passes him the ice cream, a metal spoon along with it and because she's Emma, she just has to comment.

"You look like shit," she tells him, blunt as ever.

He snorts, lips closing in and sucking around the metal. He rolls his eyes, instead of replying.

She takes the seat on his left, moving forwards so her knees touch the end of the hospital bed.

"Sorry," she says and her cheeks burn red as she glances down to the floor.

He frowns at that because is she embarrassed? She's Emma. Emma Swan. And Emma Swan never gets embarrassed. Not ever.

"Emma?" he asks.

"Hm?"

"You okay, love?" he asks tentatively and she snorts.

"Aren't I supposed to be asking you that?"

He shrugs, "I'm well aware what's wrong with me but you, I'm not so sure."

She merely shrugs at that and avoids his eyes and he wishes she'd be honest with him. If only just this once because he's exhausted - beyond exhausted for this and he can feel the antibiotics doing their work on him, trying to draw him under but he peels his eyes open, blinking heavily at her.

"Emma," he pleads.

"Are you tired?" she suddenly asks, jumping upwards and he hears the sound of the chair as it scrapes backwards.

He raises an eyebrow at the change in conversation but doesn't comment.

"I just wanted to know you were okay," she blushed red again and she's biting her lip as she leans over the bed. "But you look tired, you should sleep," she insists.

She's probably right but he wants to know what's wrong with her first.

"Love," he pleads, hand catching onto her elbow and pulling her closer.

He knows his strength is weak, know his grip lacks force but she comes close to him, hands resting near his on the bed and his fingers itch with the need to entwine their fingers together.

"I like you," she suddenly blurts out.

Her eyes widen immediately after like she hadn't meant to say that out loud and then she's detaching herself from him, taking a purposeful step backward.

"And I like you," he says slowly.

(He knows she's about to run, can see the look in her wide eyes - she just looks so skittish and vulnerable like she's literally about to spurt out of the room at a moment's notice.)

She sighs heavily.

"You don't-" she breaks off, sighs again and she shakes her head. "Just get some sleep, Killian," she tells him, "We can talk later."

"Like bloody hell we can," he raises his voice and that hurts-

-he should learn not to do that.

(He would.)

She comes near him, a finger pointed to him and her tone is scolding when she talks, "No yelling."

He huffs, "Yes, ma'am."

Her lips twitch slightly and she shakes her head.

"Go to sleep, Killian," she tells him though it's softer this time, "You need it after the surgery and besides, you look as though you'll just collapse at any minute."

"Thanks, Swan," he mutters though she's not wrong and he can feel the pain meds working, trying to lure him into sleep.

"I'll be here when you wake up," she says softly, eyes blinking down at him and lips curving upwards despite herself. "We can talk then," she tells him softly.

"We bloody hell can," he retorts, "But can you do me a favour first?"

"Anything," she promises.

"Come here," he requests.

She's confused but nears him, bends down slightly so that she's at his height.

"Yes?"

He shoots her his best I'm Killian Jones smirk before he reaches forward with his left hand to wrap around her neck and pull her forward to meet his lips. She immediately lets out a gasp against him and he lets out a groan, a low sound in the back of his throat that has her responding to him immediately.

He tries to keep it sweet - really, he does - but his Swan is responding to him in kind, her tongue sneaking out between their lips and licking over his bottom lip. He sighs against her, slows down the pace of their lips and tightens his hand around her neck and he pulls back just as he feels her own hand smoothening over his grey henley, resting over his heart.

He rests his forehead on hers, grins again as she immediately tries to chase his lips which is definitely not bruising to his ego.

"Okay," he sighs against her, "I'll go to sleep now."

He's still grinning as he pulls back at her bewildered face and her legs are shaky as she takes a step back.

"Yeah, yeah," she mutters. "I should- I should go. Let you sleep. Yes."

He snickers at her but she shoots him a glare so he shuts up, giving her his best puppy dog eyes and the sweetest smile he can manage. He waits until she's at the door to call her back.

"Swan?" he asks and she hums.

"Hm?"

"I really like you too," he tells her. "More than you'll ever know."

(Her brilliant smile, bright eyes are the last thing on his mind as his eyes close, finally letting sleep overtake him.)

(And he thinks maybe, just maybe, he might be a little bit in love with her.)

(He had been for a while if he was honest with himself.)


	13. Coffee

**Prompt: "We're two thirds of the threesome we had last night and we're walking awkwardly out of the last person's appartment together."**

**NSFW. Probably the dirtiest thing I've ever written.**

* * *

She wakes up with a start, a gasp bursting from her throat and eyes flashing wide open.

There's a voice at her ear, however.

"Easy, love," it says.

She blinks furiously, eyes coming to contact with a pair of startling blue ones and a wide grin on his very red, very kissable lips. Her eyes widen as she feels him pressed against his chest, the firmness of his torso pressing against her stomach and her eyes flutter at the feeling and she feels something else very firm pressed into the cradle of her thighs.

She looks down, gulps, when she sees the length of him and she hears a chuckle, her head snapping upwards.

He's got a mischievous grin on his lips and he raises an eyebrow.

"Done checking me out, sweetheart?"

She scoffs, shaking her head and there's a reply - sarcastic comment, probably - on her lips but a hand tightens on her waist (one she didn't even know was there to begin with) and one that is too light and feminine to belong to the man in front of her.

She hears a light hum and a pair of lips press into the soft skin of her neck.

(That's right.)

(There wasn't only one person that she went home with last night.)

The hum is accompanied by heavy breathing and her own breathing hitches in her throat at the feeling of large, plump necks on her neck, memories of last night coming back to her and she lets out a quiet groan - one she thinks is quiet anyway, but from the look on... his face, she must be mistaken.

"Reliving last night already, love?" he asks, the cheeky grin still on his face.

(Killian, she vaguely remembers.)

(His name is Killian.)

She scoffs, shaking her head with a raised eyebrow.

"You just need to accept to the face that you're just not that impressive or memorable, love," she emphasises.

He stares down at her, tongue swiping over his bottom lip and she feels his hand resting over her upper arm, travelling downwards until it's rests low - too low - and making it's way around the back of her until her left ass cheek is cradled in his rough, callous palm.

"Is that so?" he breathes, his warm breathing coming out against her face and hitting against her lips.

She gulps, eyes preoccupied with his lips as they stretch, tongue flicking out against them.

(She doesn't think she's even capable of words at this point.)

He's staring down at her furiously even as he massages her ass in his palm and she lets out a louder moan at that, head tipping backwards slightly, thighs parting and her back arching perfectly.

She hears a low growl, feels it against her skin as his head drops, lips immediately going to the base of her neck, sucking a mark into the delicate skin and she moans, long and loud, hand reaching up to fist in his dark locks. She hears him growl again, teeth nibbling harshly onto her neck and she can't help the leg that throws itself over his hip, can't help the hand that tightens in his hair and the way her hips jut forward, chasing the heat of him.

His lips are rough, callous even, against her neck, lips soothing over the bite as he bites down, his hips rocking up into hers and the length of him sliding against the length of her slit, too teasing and too light, and she growls because it's so good - perfect, even - but still not enough.

From the breathless chuckle, he lets out, the bastard knows that too.

(He could stand to be knocked down a peg or two, she knows that.)

And so, she reaches between them, searching for him and gripping him tightly in her palm, hand rocking up and down on his length and he falters himself, releasing a loud groan into her neck that she's sure is supposed to resemble her name and that also has her shivering, gritting her teeth in effort not to moan out his name in response.

She's barely got a good two strokes him before he's pushing and twisting her, moving her hand off him before he's kneeling before her, hands settling on her upper thighs and she bites her lip as he leans forward, lips brushing softly against hers.

She hears a whimper from the side of her - not one in pleasure, but more of one that signals somebody's asleep.

And that's when she remembers.

(Ruby.)

"She's fast asleep," he tells her, eyes wide and dark with lust.

She'd said that out loud?

"Besides," he continues, "I doubt she'd complain to wake up with you on the edge of bliss. I certainly wouldn't."

She feels her own eyes darken at the comment and she makes a nose - a low thing that catches in the back of her throat, hand reaching forward to fist in his curls and pull his mouth back towards her.

His lips land back on hers, pulling a deep groan from him, his chest rumbling from it and she groans.

She doesn't realise her legs are encircling his waist, didn't realise she'd wrapped them around him until she feels him - hot and heavy - pressed firmly against her entrance. She rocks her hips forward, trying to get him to make a move but he merely chuckles darkly, reaching forward to pin her wrists above her head.

"Patience," he tells her, voice low and raspy. "Ruby got to taste you rather thoroughly last night and I find myself envious," his voice drops an octave and she feels herself clench around nothing in response, a needy whimper raising from her throat.

(Yes, she did.)

(Didn't she?)

"Now," he continues from his position between her legs, his breaths coming out against her, "Its my turn."

She bites her bottom lip tightly, eyes gazing lustfully down at him.

"But then again," he continues, the words whispered against her thigh as he presses a kiss there, "She got all her compensation she needed from you. Didn't she, sweetheart?"

(She groans at the memory.)

_Emma's legs were wrapped around his waist as his hands pushed on her torso, pressing her firmly into the bed, even as he pounded into her, hips working furiously to bring her to her high. She listened carefully to his grunts - the sounds he made as his hips snapped into hers._

_(God, she wishes she could see him right now.)_

_Ruby was knelt over her face, grinding herself down over Emma's lips. The brunette's hands were curled around Emma's, encouraging her and digging her fingernails into her skin._

_Her eyes flickered upwards as Ruby's hands moved up to her breasts, cupping the moulds in her hands, rolling the nipples between her two middle fingers._

_"God," her head was thrown backwards as she groaned, her hair tickling Emma's thighs._

_Emma let out her own groan as Killian gave her a particularly harsh thrust, her tongue fucking Ruby harder and pausing to swirl around her clit. Her tongue turns vicious as she chases her own high, the way Killian enters and withdraws nothing less than perfect before he bottoms out._

_Emma is rewarded by a particularly high pitched squeal as she releases a moan into Ruby and she rocks her hips more furiously until she feels her clenching around her. She slows down her movements until Ruby's hips slow and then she withdraws altogether, lips pressing one last chaste kiss to her thigh._

_"Move," she hears a raspy voice and she clenches around him at the growl in his tone. "I want to see her."_

_It isn't long before she can see him, Killian leaning forward so that she can feel him better, his pubic bone hitting her clit with every thrust and his thrusts turning even more violent and she can pinpoint the exact moment he lets go - the moment he stops caring about her pleasure and focuses on his and it's... it's glorious, to say the least._

_(He's good, she admits begrudgingly.)_

_(So beyond good.)_

_She stares, beyond turned on, as he growls, grunting and his hair is all dishevelled from their previous position as she'd rode him and Ruby had knelt over his chest, lips on hers as she'd fondled her breasts._

_The remembrance alone has her clenching around him, eyes closing as her head tips backwards._

_"God!" she groans, loudly, and she's so close - she's just there and.._

_Oh god. God._

_Thank god. Or Ruby. Whatever._

_Ruby is suddenly leaning between them, her thumb on Emma's clit and she whimpers - actually whimpers - at the sensations it causes and her thighs tighten around Killian's waist, clenching on their position high on his hips._

_(She vaguely remembers feeling him pulse inside her, that delicious grunt he let out as he came apart himself and fell on top of her with a sigh.)_

When she comes out of her memory, it's to Killian's tongue on her and she's groaning - screaming, even - because he's good, better than Ruby, even.

She feels his fingers pressing against her entrance before he's scissoring two fingers inside of her, curling his fingers and hitting just right inside of her and she's whimpering, a quiet sound that has her reaching down to fist her hands in his hair, twisting and pulling roughly.

She hears an "Oh god," sound in her ear but Killian's tongue is circling over her clit and she finds she doesn't care much.

He's certainly talented with that tongue and he's groaning at the taste of her and she releases another high pitched moan of "God," as she feels it vibrate against her.

She feels a hand - one that is certainly not hers or Killian's - reach up to fondle her breast and her eyes flicker forwards to see Ruby smirking at her, legs crossed as her big, brown eyes stare back at her.

"Glad you're awake," she remarks though it's ruined as her voice breaks when Killian uses another finger.

Ruby hums, her brown hair shaking as she grins.

"Most certainly," she rasps.

Ruby's eyes flicker down to Killian, grins as he groans as he tastes Emma, his tongue flicking against her clit furiously.

"She tastes good, doesn't she?" she asks knowingly.

"Like candy," Killian tells her, pressing a kiss to her thigh as he moves away, withdrawing his fingers and Emma whimpers at that.

He brings them up to his mouth, tongue swiping over the digits and she groans again.

"Killian," she whines.

He's grinning as he kneels between her thighs, that familiar glint to his eyes.

"Don't fear, Swan," he remarks, hands cupping her ass and bringing her forward to meet the heat of him. "I'm far from leaving a lady waiting."

He winks at Ruby and she must see something in his gaze because she crawls over Emma, sitting on her torso and facing Emma. Emma groans as she feels Ruby's slickness coating her skin and the brunette smirks, her red lips stretching. She rubs against her, hips jolting just as Killian thrusts forward, hard, his hands gripping onto Ruby's torso to pull her back against him.

Ruby never one to not take her cue, grins, reaches back to press her thumb onto her clit, circling around the bundle of nerves roughly. She watches as she twists, whispering in Killian's ear and he grunts, his thrusts turning slightly more erratic.

"Yes," he says, tone hoarse. "She glorious."

"Hm," Ruby says teasingly, her thumb turning heavy. "She could be better - seeing her fall apart for you. Well, that's glorious."

(And then they both make it their mission to make her fall apart.)

(She can't say she minds, not with the way Killian fucks her into the mattress.)

**XXX**

It's not until later, when she's walk of shaming it out of Ruby's apartment (and boy is she glad they went to hers) with Killian at her side, that she thinks about her actions because really? She just had to have a threesome.

She hears a chuckle and looks over to see Killian's eyes focussed on her.

"What?" she snaps.

"Just looking at pure beauty," he responds, that ever charming smile turning into a grin on his red lips.

She snorts, rolling her eyes.

"You already got me in bed, Jones," she retorts, "No need to keep the charming comments up."

"Maybe I want more," he retorts.

She freezes at that.

"What?"

He suddenly shrugs, perking up.

"Do you want to get coffee?" he asks suddenly, eyes bright.

Um what?

"Do you want to get coffee?" he repeats.

"While I'm walk of shaming it out of the apartment where we just had a threesome?" she rolls her eyes again.

"Later then."

He looks so hopeful, his eyes gleaming down at her in determination that she knows he's not going to take no for an answer.

"Not where you're concerned," he retorts.

(She really needed to get a filter for her mouth.)

(And so, she agrees.)

(She's not sure why but she does.)

(It turns out to be the best decision of her life, she muses, as she walks down the aisle two years later, his grin glaring back at her as he reaches for her.)


	14. Faking It?

They met when she interviewed to be a model for his art class (she was low on cash, okay?) and when she got the job, his eyes always followed her around the room. He'd stare up at her intently - eyes scanning every line of her face.

(It's an artist thing, she's told.)

She could always feel his eyes burning a hole in the side of her head as she shrugged her jacket on afterwards.

Still, they never spoke.

(Not once.)

-/-

They're finally introduced when he comes up for an interview to be her new roommate. Ruby (the traitor) had previously moved in with her boyfriend the month before and really, she was a poor college student. How could she manage rent all by herself?

Apparently, he and his old roommate didn't get along very well and he was as eager as she was to get a new one.

"It's nice to finally meet you," he says just as they're saying their goodbyes.

"Oh?"

He grins, a boyish thing that brings out his very blue eyes and his left dimple. His hand comes up to scratch that spot on his neck, smile sheepish as his eyes cast downward.

"I've always wanted to have the pleasure of meeting you," he finally says, eyes flickering back upwards, the curve of his lips turning upwards softly.

She shakes her head, laughing slightly and decides to lighten the mood.

"Flattery won't get you anywhere," she tells him.

He smirks at that, his confident and cocky persona back.

"We'll see," he says and she shakes her head again.

"You're lucky I'm desperate," she murmurs.

His eyes light up at that.

"Is that a yes?"

She laughs slightly and honestly, when was the last time she laughed this much?

She holds a hand out for him, however, and he takes it, his fingers curving over hers carefully.

"Welcome to the building," she tells him and he smirks.

He pulls on her hand and she doesn't know when it happens but she's suddenly pressed up against his chest, her hand resting on his clothed, dark henley. Her eyes are wide as she stares up at him and she's suddenly beyond speech as she gets lost in his baby blues.

Her eyes flicker down to his lips and god damn, they're seriously kissable and red for a few seconds too long because when she looks back up, he's got a smug smirk on his lips and his eyebrows are raised, a knowing expression on his face.

His head tips the side and her eyes are far too dis focused when he speaks.

"Huh?"

That god damn smirk gets wider.

"When do you want me?"

Well, Mr Sex-on-legs...

(And how is she just now noticing the accent because god...)

"To move in, I mean?" he suddenly adds and she's drawn back to the present.

She pushes back from him slightly, a flustered smile on her lips.

"How does this weekend sound?" she asks and she's too ashamed of how her breathing is practically coming out in pants.

"Sounds perfect, love," he tells her and she knows he's putting more emphasis on the accent than he normally does.

(God, he's charming.)

(And he's charming her far more than she's comfortable with saying out loud but she can't, not now, not ever, - they're roommates now, officially or not.)

(He moves in that weekend.)

-/-

The two of them fall into a nice friendship.

He's nearly always out of the apartment before her in the morning but he always makes sure there's a coffee waiting out on the side for her and Emma, god, she thinks she could love him. Quite, very easily.

And so, because she's Emma Swan, she buries it and does what she does best.

She runs.

(Not quite so literally this time.)

(But she avoids him, for a little while at least.)

(Avoids anything that could stir any feelings within her.)

(So, it ends up her avoiding admitting to herself that she has real, actual feelings for him and she's quite content to live in denial for the rest of her life.)

-/-

One day and it's a year later and she's literally just walked home and dropped her keys on the counter when she hears keys turning in the doorway. She frowns because it's barely two o'clock and Killian's never home before three.

When she walks around to the doorway, it is him, although he's with someone.

She barely has time to open her mouth before his (friend?) is speaking.

"Are you his girlfriend?" the man asks politely, a lilting accent extremely familiar to Killian's lacing his voice.

She opens her mouth to deny the words but she doesn't have time to deny the question before Killian is speaking up.

"Yes."

Her eyes widen slightly, turning down to stare at Killian for the lie but his own, blue eyes are pleading up at her, lips pressing into a pout. And she doesn't know why, but something about his expression (and probably something to do with the fact that she needs something from him also) has her agreeing.

And that's the moment when she realises something is wrong.

Killian is in a wheelchair.

"Oh my god," she gasps. "What happened?"

(Even if she hates him - not so much, if she's honest - he's still hurt.)

Killian grumbles under his breath, "Took you long enough, lass."

She glares at him briefly but she hears the stranger chuckling underneath his breath.

"This stupid sod thought he could go for a run out in this weather. Went across some grass and broke his ankle," he tells her, tone amused and his equally blue eyes sparkling down at her.

This must be his brother, she realised. God knows, he talks about him enough.

(Not that she likes him.)

(Killian, that is.)

(Or that's what she tells herself.)

Killian grumbles and she swears he's...

"Are you blushing?" she buts in, a huge smile on her face and she can't help it when she starts giggling.

The cocky, confident Killian Jones is actually blushing. But, oh, she's never going to let him live this down.

"Swan," he complains, whining, with that never faltering pout on his face, bottom lip even jutting out slightly.

She grins even wider at the sight and his eyes are still glaring up at her.

"Well," she hears the same voice pipe up again and she watches as Killian's head snaps sideways. "Are you going to introduce us, little brother?"

"Younger brother," Killian mutters, seemingly put out.

She watches as the clearly elder Jones grins condescendingly down at his brother, his eyebrow raised in that same god damn way that Killian does.

"Right," Killian mutters, hand reaching up to scratch that spot behind his ear and he looks back at Emma sheepishly. "Swan, this is my brother, Liam," he gestures between the two of them. "Liam, this is Emma," he seems to hesitate before tacking on, "My girlfriend."

She tries to keep her expression from looking surprised but she's not quite sure she managed.

Liam, however, seems to believe it because he holds out a hand for her to shake. She takes it quickly, smiling softly up at him.

"It's a pleasure to finally meet the lass I've heard so much about," Liam comments as she releases his hand.

"Oh?" she asks, curiosity lacing her tone.

Liam opens his mouth but not before a smirk appears, obviously about to speak but Killian is quick to interrupt.

"That will be all, brother," he quickly dismisses Liam, eyebrows raised as he glares at his brother.

Liam snorts and shrugs, taking a step back.

"Fine, fine. I can see where I'm not wanted," he grins up at Emma. "I trust you can take of his insufferable ass?"

Emma nods, still laughing slightly.

When Liam is gone, she's smiling down at Killian expectantly.

"You owe me," she tells him, eyebrows drawn together.

"I know," he sighs and then he grins up at her. "But help a poor bloke out and open the door to my room?"

She sighs but obligingly does what he wants, going behind the wheelchair to wheel him into his room as she kicks the door open.

"You're lucky I like you," she tells him.

"I know, Swan," he sighs softly. "I know."

And then because he's Killian Jones, he has to add on, "Besides, Swan, you're going to have to look after me for a while. I'm a bit incapacitated, you could say. But, you know, if you want to take advantage of my lesser self, you won't hear me complaining. Besides, I know you quite like tying me up."

She groans, effectively cutting him off and she can practically sense his grin.

(It was a dare, okay? Ruby dared her to tie him to the headboard on his bed and she was quite intoxicated and besides, he didn't exactly complain - he even said he was all for it.)

"One time, Killian. One god damn time!"

"Aye," he agrees. "And you're never going to live it down. I promise you that, love."

"You're seriously lucky I like you," she tells him, glaring slightly as she comes to the front of the wheelchair.

"I know, sweetheart."

-/-

It's later that day, when she's finally got him to sleep some - Killian was as stubborn as they came.

(She's no expert but she assumes breaking your leg takes a toll on the person.)

Since she's basically ordered him to best rest, he demands back that she must sit and watch some films with him, at least for a little while.

She sighs, lips twitching though really, it's not anything big and she's delighted really.

She finally gets to ask him what the whole this-is-my-girlfriend-dear-big-brother-liam situation was about.

He shrugs, avoiding her eyes and reaches up to scratch that spot behind his ear again.

"Killian," she whines, stretching the syllables out.

"Fine," he says and goes about to mutter something under his breath that she can't quite catch.

"I'm sorry, what was that?"

"I may or may not have told my whole family that you were my girlfriend," he muttered.

Um what?

"I didn't mean anything by it, I swear," he adds on hastily. "It's just - they're always worried about me, Liam especially, and his girlfriend, Elsa, is always trying to set me up on double dates and it's just," he breaks off sighing. "I get that they're worried about me but it's tiresome and the only way to avoid that-"

"Is if you pretend to have a girlfriend," she finishes.

"Aye," he agrees and sighs again. "And you were the first person that popped into my head."

(She tries not to delight in the fact that she's the first girl he thought of.)

(But well, she fails miserably.)

And, so, that's how Emma ends up being Killian Jones' fake girlfriend.

-/-

The first event they have to go together is easy. Just a quiet night at his brother and Elsa's house which is only a five minute cab drive off of their own apartment.

"Thank you," he tells her, tone hushed as they walk up the steps to his brother's building. "I can't thank you enough for this."

"Don't worry about it, Killian," she interrupts, tone just as soft. "We're friends, right? This is what friends do."

His eyes seem to darken at her comment but he nods slightly, lips pressing together firmly. His arm snakes around her waist, hand heavy on her hip as he rubs against the material he finds there.

"Friends," he promises, hand tightening slightly.

And then Liam opens the door and Killian is grinning so she sort of forgets what just happened.

It's Christmas so she really shouldn't be surprised when they walk in and there's mistletoe hanging above the doorway entrance but she is and Elsa stops them immediately, her and Liam gesturing upwards with matching smirks on their faces.

Crap.

(They really should have thought of this.)

Killian, however, is smirking and she bites her lip, eyes finding Killian's as he turns his torso towards her, hand loosening on her waist.

She catches his blue eyes as he stares down at her, his hand reaching forward and curling around her sleek neck. His thumb is caressing her cheek as he leans towards her and his nose bumps against hers as his lips hover over her ear.

"Follow my lead," he tells her, voice a raspy whisper and she can't control the shiver that travels down her spine at that.

She does as he asks, hardly breathing as he pulls back slightly, head tilting sideways. His thumb is still soft on her cheek, rubbing her skin lightly and she knows she isn't even breathing as he leans further in. When his lips touch hers, however, they are soft and all consuming and her eyes flutter close. She tries to act naturally, barely stopping herself from letting out a gasp and responds to him as quickly as she is able.

His lips stay soft and hers are pliant against his, moving slowly and she can't help the small groan she lets out as his tongue swipes out against her bottom lip, demanding entrance. She allows him in immediately, tongue soon tangling around his and she feels the hum he lets out, can feel it all the way down to her toes.

His lips soon become more demanding against hers, rougher even, and she replies in kind, lips following his quick movements.

She can feel his lips turning softer against hers, less frantic and she whimpers - actually, full on whimpers - when he pulls back. He presses one last, chaste kiss to her lips before he pulls away completely.

His eyes are the first thing she sees when she pulls back and they're sparkling down at her, slightly darkened with what she assumes is lust.

He licks his bottom lip and he almost looks sheepish and she almost - almost - offers to scratch that spot behind his ear because he looks like he wants to and god, she hates how adorable he is too.

She hears laughter in her ear when she finally comes back to present and when she turns, Liam and Elsa are grinning widely at them.

"Well," Liam asks, that Jones smirk on his face that she's no doubt is a family trait. "Who is ready for dinner?"

(She can't quite admit it to herself but she secretly wants this.)

(Wants to be like them and have regular dinner dates with her - with Killian.)

(But most importantly, she wants him.)

(But she can't have him, she knows that.)

-/-

They go to his family's house in London for New Years and boy, does she put up a fight at first.

"Killian," she tells him softly. "I know I said I'd help you and boy, believe me, I do want to but I can't go to London. I don't exactly know how to tell you this but we're both college students - poor,college students at that. How in the hell do you think I could manage to buy a two way ticket to London?"

He's shaking his head before she's even finished.

"I'll pay," he says decisively. "You are doing me a favour, after all. I'd never presume to ask you to buy your own tickets."

"Killian. I can't ask you to spend-"

"You're not," he interrupts, "And I know you'll see it as a charity but it's not. Call it an incentive if you like, for doing me a huge favour."

His big, blue, pleading eyes so she agrees, sighing.

"Okay."

And then-

"But only if I get the window seat."

He's grinning widely at her, expression relieved and his eyes are sparkling up at her.

It's moments like these, when he's happy and open with her that she can actually admit to herself that she's - she's falling for him and she can't stop it, can't help it. It's just them - Killian and Emma - and it almost seems like their together.

(Their not, though, she knows that.)

(And maybe she doesn't deserve him - doesn't deserve them.)

(But still, in times like these, she allows herself to hope.)

-/-

When they arrive at his families house, it's all hugs and love and that's one thing that Emma Swan is absolutely not use to.

His mother practically attacks Killian as he walks through the door, pressing up against him expectantly and opening her arms for a hug.

"Mum," he whines but hugs her anyway, arms wrapping around her.

"Hush you," she tells him. "I haven't seen you in ages." She pushes him away slightly then, eyes scanning him. "Now, let me look at you."

She watches as he turns a bright red, his cheeks flaming up and she can't hold in the giggle that's bubbling in her throat. It's certainly different to see him like this - it's definitely a change from the confident guy she knows.

"Oh," his mother snaps her gaze to her then, a bright smile on her face. "This must be your girlfriend."

She's ready to deny the comment until she realises that she actually kind of is (for now at least).

His mother's green eyes are sharp on her face though her smile is soft and she steps forward, one hand reaching out for Emma. Smiling sheepishly, Emma steps forward and his mother reaches for her hands, cold fingers curling around her warm palm.

She swears there's tears in the older womans eyes when she looks up.

"It's a pleasure to meet you," she tells her before she's pulling Emma in for a hug and Emma freezes before relaxing, clumsily wrapping her arms around the woman.

When she pulls away, Killian's fumbling, shuffling next to her until his own arm is wrapped around her waist and his mother is grinning widely at the gesture.

Emma, though, feels like she must say something.

"Thank you for having me, Mrs Jones," she stutters out almost clumsily because what does one say in these situations?

She laughs, head shaking.

"None of that now, dear," she tells her. "Please, call me Ivy. Besides, I have a feeling we'll be family sooner than not."

She swear she chokes on air at that and Killian is blushing profoundly.

"Mother," he grits out between clenched teeth.

Ivy rolls her eyes and pats her son's cheek condescendingly.

"None of that, Killian," she tells him in the way that only a mother can to her child. "Now, why don't you show Emma to your room where you can unpack?"

Killian shoots her a tight smile, hand running down Emma's hip.

"Right this way, love," he tells her, the words whispered into her hair.

Emma gives his mother one last small smile as she lets Killian lead the way.

(She has a feeling this is going to be a long week.)

"Sorry," Killian tells her when they're back in the room, hand scratching behind his ear yet again after he'd dropped their belongings on the bed. "I forgot how my family was - mother especially."

She smiles at him as he averts his eyes, glaring down at the floor.

She takes a step towards him, hand on his elbow and he immediately looks up, catching her eyes.

"Don't worry," she tells him softly. "You're lucky you have that - not everybody does," and that's when she senses that the path is going far too deeper than she's comfortable with so she adds on, "Besides, it's never a bad thing to see the infamous Killian Jones blushing."

He groans, flopping down onto the bed and his head tilts back against the pillows.

"You're not going to let me live this down. Are you?"

She grins, the dimple in her chin protruding.

"Not a chance."

-/-

Killian's never really spoke about his family - with the exception of Liam so she's somewhat surprised that she doesn't bump into his father. She doesn't ask though.

(She knows what it's like not to want to discuss a certain topic and she certainly senses there is sensitivity there so she lets it be.)

(If he wants to talk about it, he will.)

-/-

They sit down with his family for dinner.

("Tea, Swan. Tea," Killian insists.

"We're having tea?" she's confused and also kind of starving - airplane food was never great.

"Not that tea - dinner tea."

"Huh?")

And it's nice - more than nice, actually, and she's surprised herself by how much she's enjoying it.

Killian's arm is wrapped around her the top of her seat, his fingers dancing over her bare shoulder and a line of shivers travel down her spine that has almost nothing to do with the cool temperature (it was England after all). Elsa and Liam are sat opposite of them and his mother is sat at the head of the table.

"So," Ivy begins, a question on her lips and her eyes focussed on Emma. "How did you two meet?"

And thank god they'd actually rehearsed this.

_"We met in art class, Swan, remember that," Killian had rehearsed, repeating the lines._

_She snorts._

_"It's not exactly a lie," he says._

_"Not exactly the truth either," she counters, eyebrows raised. "You never did talk to me."_

_"And you never spoke to me either, love," he retorts._

_And well, he has her there_.

"In art class," she tells his mother, eyes darting to his quickly before landing on Ivy again. "I was a model for that particular class for a few months."

"She was immediately drawn to me," Killian buts in, boastedly, and ignoring the snicker from Liam as Elsa nudges him in the ribs with a glare.

Emma, for her part, snorts and rolls her eyes.

"You wish."

He grins, a wide, boyish thing that is 100% Killian Jones and makes him look younger. His eyebrows are raised slightly and she rolls her eyes, her eyes flickering over to his brother with an amused smile on her face.

"He followed me around the room like a lost puppy," she confirms.

Liam grins and it's soon followed by laughter, head tipping backwards slightly as he catches his brother's blush, Killian's cheeks burning a deep red.

"Now, that, sounds more like my little brother," Liam remarks.

"Younger brother," Killian immediately tells him, expression somewhat put out.

"Aw, babe," Emma turns to face him, a smug smirk on her lips with her eyes shining up at him. "You just can't handle the truth."

She pats his cheek condescendingly, eyes catching his as the dimple in her chin protrudes and she can't help the bubble of laughter that bubbles up when he blushes a deeper red.

"Swan," he mutters and she swears he's pouting, bottom lip out and everything.

"You're such a baby," she tells him, eyebrow raised.

"I'm your baby," he corrects and the statement suddenly startles her, eyes widening as she comes back to the present.

She's still staring up at him as she hears the chatter flowing around the room, hand freezing on his cheek and she tries to relax, tries to loosen her shoulders that have suddenly tightened but it's no use and he knows. She knows that he knows. He's got this look in his eyes - they've hardened considerably but they're also sympathetic as though he understands and she knows he doesn't. He can't.

"You're so cute," his mother is saying and she lets her eyes flutter towards her.

(Still, she can't remember the last time she laughed or even smiled this much and she knows - it's all down to him, because of him.)

(She's quite sure she's falling for him.)

(But she can't be, can she?)

-/-

They don't talk about it. They both ignore it, her more than him.

When they get back up to his room that night and after a few too many drinks that is with Liam and Elsa after his mother had retired to bed.

_"Good night, kids," she had told them and Emma had laughed again at the expression on Killian's face._

_"Just face it, little brother," Liam had teased. "You're the youngest."_

_"Not technically," his gaze had then snapped towards hers._

_She'd gulped at his expression, his eyes soft on hers and his lips twisted up into that damn Killian Jones smirk._

_"She's also not a Jones yet," Liam had countered and um what?_

_Yet?_

_"Unless," Liam continued, a sly smirk on his face. "There's something you're not telling me?"_

_The look on her face must of said it all because Elsa, bless her heart, was glaring at her boyfriend and stood up, a grin on her lips._

_"How about some booze?"_

_(And boy, was she thankful.)_

He doesn't look at her as he shuts the door, just shuffles about some and her eyes furrow together as he takes a pillow off of the bed, dropping it to the floor and was he really planning on sleeping on the floor?

Was spending a night in bed with her that unpleasant?

"Killian-" she starts. "You don't have to do that."

His head turns around to hers.

"Hm?"

She rolls her eyes, bends down to pick the pillow from him and raises an eyebrow when he goes to fight her on it but obviously thinks better of it, pressing his lips firmly together.

"Come on," she tells him. "I'm not going to make you sleep on the floor in your own room. Get in the bed."

His eyes seem to soften as he stares back at her, taking a few steps so there's less than a few centimetres between them.

"Well, I'm not exactly going to ask you to sleep on the floor. Am I, love?" he retorts and there's something in his tone - something harsh - that practically makes her jump back. He softens slightly, shaking his head, mouth parting to speak. "That's not- Sorry," he sighs. "I didn't mean to-"

"Just get in the bed, Killian," she tells him, eyes narrowed slightly and she knows her tone is harsh now, matching his but she can't quite bring herself to care. "I'm sure we can manage to share a bed for one night."

And with that, she goes for her bag, rooting through until she finds what she's looking for.

She doesn't look back as she heads for the bathroom, the door slamming shut behind her.

(His eyes are screwed tight when she walks back out and he's on his side, back to the middle of the bed and she's actually kind of glad.)

(The last thing she wants is to deal with him right now.)

-/-

She doesn't sleep much that night.

Instead, she settles for creeping as far to the edge of the bed as she possibly can, fingers curling tightly around the mattress.

She forces her breathing to even, trying to give up the illusion of sleep.

And it's working (or so she thinks) until she hears a loud sigh. It's followed by the mattress dipping and she feels Killian as he comes up behind her, body pressing against hers. His hand comes to press against her stomach lightly before he's pulling her back with him slightly.

She doesn't say anything, doesn't think he knows she's awake so she just lies there and tries not to think about the fact that he's pressed rather intimately against her.

"I know you're awake," he tells her some time later and she's not quite sure how much time has passed.

She still doesn't say anything.

She hears him sigh again and this time it's pressed into her shoulder as his head drops down.

"I'm sorry," he says, lips brushing against her sensitive skin and his voice muffled. "I really am. I didn't mean to snap at you. I guess I just- I don't know," he sighs again. "I could blame the booze but it's most likely me just being - what do you yanks call it, an ass? So I'm sorry."

When she doesn't say anything, he sighs and goes to retract his hand but suddenly she's clinging onto his arm and even she's not sure why. Then, she's turning around in his arms until she can see his bright blue ones again and even in the dark, she can still see them.

His arms immediately adjust to her, clinging to her form and his right hand is running along her back, rubbing soothing patterns into her clothed skin and suddenly, she doesn't even know why she's angry anymore so she smiles at him.

"I'm sorry," he tells her again.

She smiles again.

"I know."

And this moment, it's sort of perfect, so she lets go of the fact that she's terrified that this is a bad idea (and god knows, it is) and lets herself enjoy it, turning off her mind, if even for a few minutes.

Killian, however, is still staring down at her with focussed eyes and he licks his lips.

Her eyes follow the movement intently and she can't help it as she drifts even closer to him, her eyes locked on his lips and really, it's just inevitable what happens next.

His right hand comes up to cradle her jaw and almost in the next second, he's there - lips pressing softly against hers and she was expecting it slightly, sort of, but still, she lets out a gasp against him and her eyes flutter close. He takes advantage of the sound she makes, tongue making its way into the hot, cave of her mouth and then she's groaning into his mouth.

Her hands reach up to tangle themselves into his hair and one of his hands is drifting lower until it's practically resting on her ass.

In the next moment, she's on her back with her thighs spread over his hips, circling them and tugging him closer to her. His lips are glued to hers, his movements turning frantic and she really can't help it as she bucks underneath him, chasing his heat. Her fingers tighten in his hair, trying to pull him closer, still, but then it's ending.

He groans against her but then he's pulling away, pressing one last, lingering and chaste kiss to her lips as he props himself up on his elbows.

"Emma," he whispers, hoarsely, and she can't help the little smile that comes on her face at how wrecked he sounds (and looks really.) He licks his lips before he continues, a passive expression on his face, "I can't-" he sighs breaking off. "I can't do this if you're not in this for the long haul," he eventually settles on. "I care about you - I do, I care about you a lot, you know? And I want - I need more than some fling. I need you in my life an-"

She flings herself at him again and her lips are rough against his as he lands on his back with a loud umph.

He's responding rather encouragingly against her and she can feel his happiness under her but she has something she wants to tell him too.

With a soft push to his cheek, she settles back against his thighs, leaning back slightly and from the dark look in his eyes, he certainly doesn't mind.

She smirks, a smug one that is only slightly softened as she looks down at him because he's here - there's a kind, gentle man here and he wants her, wants all of her, and she almost doesn't believe it. She never really thought she'd be capable of this but god, she wants this, she wants this more than she can say into words.

Instead, she settles for a simple, "Yes."

And god, he looks happier than she's seen him before.

He doesn't say a word as he rolls them back until her thighs are circled around his hips again and this time, his hips are the ones that rock forward slowly and she can feel him - can feel the ridge of him and he's seriously hitting her clit as he grinds against her, slow and easy.

Then, his hips tilt as he leans forward, lips brushing softly against hers.

"I guess we won't be faking anymore?"

His tone is so soft, so unsure and hesitant that she's quite sure her heart breaks when she tilts her head to look up at him.

"No," she tells him just as soft, hand coming up to rest at the nape of his neck and tugging his dark locks slightly, her thumb rubbing his cheek. "Never again."

-/-

They don't tell his family the truth until their engagement party.

His mother just rolls her eyes.

"I knew."

Killian snorts, eyebrows raising.

"No, mother. You really didn't," he retorts.

She smiles, patting his cheek.

"I'm your mother," she tells him. "I know everything."

(And 25 years later, Emma finally understands her as she goes through the same thing with their own son.)

(That one never could lie to his mother, though, so it was more of his poor acting skills than her maternity senses.)

(And Killian and Emma live happily ever after.)

(Or, as close as it gets, she supposes.)


	15. Not So Alone Anymore

**Prompt: "We had a one night stand and now I'm pregnant. Crap. What do we do now?"**

* * *

She didn't think she'd ever see him again and in all honesty, Emma wasn't quite sure she wanted to.

The night they spent together was good, great, even, but the man - Killian - if she remembers correctly through the vague, drunk haze, made her feel things she wasn't exactly comfortable with.

And by things, she means feelings.

So, she was all okay with the fact that when they went back to his on New Years. It meant she could sneak out of his place in the morning.

And really, she shouldn't have fallen asleep in his arms in the first place.

But she did.

She doesn't even have his number and she doesn't even know his last name so tracking him down isn't exactly the easiest thing to accomplish.

But does, in the end.

(Sort of.)

(Or not really.)

Just, when she shows up to David and Mary Margaret's for lunch on Sunday (it was their thing - her brother always made sure she came for lunch at least once a week), she's greeted by the surprise of her life.

(Well, the second one at least.)

And all she'd wanted to do was talk to Mary Margaret - at least get another women's opinion on the matter.

Someone to talk to.

(Probably the first time she's ever wanted that.)

(But she's not completely alone.)

(Not anymore, she knows that.)

"Emma," her brother grins when he opens the door, immediately leaning towards her for a hug and she briefly returns it before pulling back slightly. "I'm glad you could make it," he says sincerely.

She snorts.

"As if had a choice."

He only grins wider.

"Here," he encourages with a wave of his arm. "Come in. Please."

And just when his mouth parts to say more, he frowns slightly when Mary Margaret comes to his side, a man behind her.

"Oh," he says. "Emma, this is Killian. He's just started helping out at the station."

And damn, if he isn't as handsome as she remembers - the scruff that coloured his chin, the brightness of his too blue eyes and the way his lips curled upwards into a lopsided smirk.

"Emma," he breathes, eyes firmly planted on hers but he seems to hesitate after that and she actually kind of appreciates that - knows that if she wanted he'd go along with the fact that they'd never met before.

But they have.

And well, Emma decides that after all she can't really pretend that she doesn't know him.

"Killian," she says, breathless, and her lips are pressed firmly together. "It's nice to see you again."

(But really, she wishes she didn't have to.)

(But she does.)

(For more than one reason.)

She catches Mary Margaret staring at her from the corner of her eyes but she doesn't look, instead lets her eyes drift to the floor awkwardly as she bites her lip.

Mary Margaret is just ushering her and Killian - she really should ask his last name too - into the living room when David suddenly speaks up.

"Again?"

Well, crap.

(If she didn't think he was going to act big brotherly before...)

(He certainly is now.)

-/-

Dinner isn't as awkward as she thought it was going to be.

They do put her next to Killian and she angles the chair as far as she can without notice so that she doesn't have to touch him because if she does, honestly, she's not sure what will happen.

Their night is still imprinted firmly on her mind.

(He left a good impression, okay?)

-/-

It isn't until Mary Margaret brings out the main course and god, she rolls her eyes at how much of a formal meal they practically force her to have every week, that a problem occurs.

It's turkey.

And that's when she goes running for the bathroom.

Soon enough, she's kneeling before the toilet and she can't stop.

-/-

When she's finished, her chest is heaving as she collapses against the floor, the toilet seat lid hitting closed with a loud bang and there is tears streaming down her face continuously.

And god, what does she tell him?

She doesn't even know what to tell herself right now.

And behind her eyes, she sees those two little blue lines glaring back at her until reality had sunk in. She can still feel those minutes like they were the longest of her life - and they were. By far.

But honest to god.

What does she do now?

Especially with the father in the next room.

-/-

She doesn't know how long it's been.

Could of been minutes. Hours. Days, really.

And honestly, she expected Mary Margaret to be the first knocking on the door.

(David knows her well enough to know when she needs to be left alone but Mary Margaret, well, she doesn't give in.)

(Ever.)

But it isn't. And she's shocked - pleasantly or not so pleasantly, she's not quite sure, when it's a male voice.

"Emma?"

She gulps down another wave of nausea when she hears the knock and it feels like it's vibrating through her stomach and she swears she can feel something stiring in her, as though her child - theirs - is kicking at the sound of its father.

Or maybe she's just nervous.

"Love?" his accented voice waves over to her and she presses her fingers to her temples slightly as she attempts to find her voice.

"Are you okay?" he pipes up again and she can hear the frown in his voice.

She gulps, finally finds her voice.

"Just a minute," she calls back. "I'll be out in a minute."

Silent follows for a minute and then.

"Take your time," he says. "I'll be waiting here."

And she knows he will, but she appreciates the warning all the same.

-/-

It's another ten minutes before she gathers her courage and her legs are shaky as she unlocks the door.

She knows her face is pale and sweaty, knows the mascara is probably running down her face but she can't dwindle anymore.

He deserves the truth, after all.

Besides, if it was her, she'd want to know.

(Not that she expects anything - she expects nothing, nothing at all, from him.)

He's standing when she shuts the door back behind her and he's scratching that spot behind his head, eyes flitting over to hers and she almost hates the concern she reads in them.

Perhaps it would be easier if she knew - knew that they'd be nothing.

But, they could be.

She knows that.

And secretly, she wants that - wants him.

(Maybe, he wouldn't want to, not now.)

(Not after the way she'd left without a word.)

(And certainly not for the news she's about to deliver to him.)

He coughs quietly, and she realises that she's been lost in her thoughts for too long.

"Are you okay?" he asks again, voice low.

She nods, gives him a small smile.

"I'm fine."

He frowns, disbelieving, and she doesn't blame him because she's sure she looks like a mess.

"Okay," she sighs. "Maybe I'm not but there's technically nothing wrong with me."

"Technically?" he asks and he looks adorably confused that she almost forgets it all - almost goes to hell with it all.

She bites her lip, eyes scanning his face quickly before gesturing down the hall.

"How about we go for a walk?"

-/-

David had left a few minutes prior, Mary Margaret tells her and she's actually quite grateful that she sent him away for some crackers or something apparently.

But, Mary Margaret is looking at her like she knows - those green eyes focused intently on her face and really, she probably does.

(Mary Margaret has always been creepy like that.)

"We'll be back soon," she promises.

Mary Margaret nods but doesn't comment, turning around and busying herself in the kitchen once more.

When she returns to the front door, Killian is waiting patiently with a smile on his face and in his hands is her coat.

He gestures towards her, "May I?"

Damn, adorable idiot.

-/-

They don't walk far, only to the park that Emma knows will be empty at this time.

Their hands hang loosely by their sides and she shivers as his fingers unconsciously brush up against hers every time his hips sway as he strides forward.

He's silent which she appreciates, it's nice to have a moment or two to gather her thoughts together before she faces the inevitable.

-/-

When they sit on the bench, he immediately faces her, face pensive as though he knows there's something serious (definitely serious) that they need to discuss.

Emma doesn't face him, however. Her hands are folded in her lap and she fidgets slightly as her fingers burn from the cold, lacing and unlacing them as she gathers the courage she needs. A pair of cold hands suddenly grab hers and her head snaps up in shock.

"Emma," he says, tone pleading and have his eyes always been that blue?

She sighs, but faces him and she smiles as his bigger hands frame hers, thumb rubbing hers slightly.

"I'm sorry," she tells him and his face crumples slightly, head tipping to the side. "I'm sorry," she repeats. "I didn't want this to happen. I thought I was careful but obviously contraception isn't always 100% effective," she rambles on, "I really didn't expect it to happen and I swear I haven't known long and I have been searching for you. I figured it was only fair-"

She's cut off when his eyebrows furrow together, his lips parting and she swears he pales slightly.

"What?" and his voice is barely a whisper now. "What are you saying?"

And that's the moment when she knows, can see the scared look in his eyes, knows she's going to be alone for all of this.

"I'm pregnant."

-/-

He's staring at her - eyes wide and unmoving as he had been for the last ten minutes.

She feels like she should interrupt because he looks pale and he looks as though he's staring off into space but honestly, when she first found out the news she was worse. A lot worse.

And he should be allowed to the the time he needs.

She can feel the traitorous tears falling down her face, can feel the emotion welling up in her throat when fifteen minutes pass.

It's stupid, she knows that.

They're not together. They're not even friends.

They're nothing.

So why was she upset about something she never had?

(She blames in on the hormones.)

-/-

She's just about to interrupt his musings, her eyes faced downwards and glaring a hole into the wet ground when she feels a finger tugging around her curls, another hand wrapping around her slender neck and her eyebrows furrow together when he tilts her head upwards.

When she catches his eyes, they're surprisingly soft and so, so blue and his lips are twisted up understandingly.

She's about to say something - what she doesn't know.

Just, something.

But, Emma, however, doesn't get there quick enough.

"And I'm presuming I'm the father?"

(She almost punches him.)

She rolls her eyes, snorting, and that seems enough of an answer for him.

He's got a small grin on his face and she startles when his fingers curve around hers, his warmth radiating into her.

(Honestly, she looks up to him for the fact that he can show humour.)

She grin suddenly vanishes from his face, however, and it's left with a more pensive look, eyes still soft but more serious looking.

"I'm not going anywhere," he suddenly swears, voice incredibly soft.

And her eyebrows shoot up.

That, she wasn't expecting.

"I'm not," he promises as though he sees the skeptical look on her face, and he does, she's certain of it.

(He did tease her that she was an open book when they first met.)

"Whatever reason," he says, "Whatever circumstances. That's my child and I'll never deny he or she it's father."

She lets out a small breath, a puff of oxygen that circles in the air.

(And she can't deny it-

-she's, she's relieved.

So beyond relieved.)

"Neither will I," she confirms because he's basically pouring his soul out to her but she still feel like she owes him something too.

His smile is brilliant when she tightens her fingers around his until their interlaced, dropping down on her lap.

"We'll figure this out," he says and then hesitantly, he adds, "Together."

(She finds that the thought isn't as scary as she once thought.)

(Together.)

(Because she wasn't completely alone now.)


	16. Red, Checked Shirts

**Set some time ****in a vague future with happiness and rainbows, because I can, and I apparently have no restrain. Trying to get into a writing mood, and this is what I came up with. Based on a post I saw on tumblr.**

* * *

Some time after Emma's visions stop and she overcomes her fears of death, and she'd long since defeated the Crocodile and Belle's son (the futuristic version of him, anyway). Though he'd never questioned that part, that she'd be able to overcome them, he was certain she could overcome anything. She was a tough lass, his Swan. And he'd never take her any other way.

They'd grown closer somehow after all of it, and despite their time in the underworld, he still suspected Emma was holding back from him. If only a little. Killian suspected it was something to do with the amount of times they'd almost lost each other. They spend a few nice, quiet days locked away in their house, with Henry at Regina's, and he's not sure he's felt so quite at peace than those days they'd gotten.

But real life eventually catches up, and Emma's responsibilities as both a sheriff and a mother some make themselves present. Especially when Henry comes bounding in to their room, chattering away to himself.

The lad's eyes soon widen, at catching Emma barely shifting into her shirt, and his own hand curled around his belt, still shirtless.

"You-I... What-" the boy stutters, and his cheeks turn a red colour, before he huffs, turning around and marching out of the door with a loudly muttered, "This is what locks are for, mom," left behind him.

(Killian doesn't think he's ever seen mother and son look so jointly embarrassed before.)

"On the bright side, Swan," he appeals to her, when Emma reveals her embarrassment, hiding her face behind her palms, as she buries herself into the pillow on the unmade bed. "He could have walked in a few moments before."

She glares at him, her eyes narrowing, as she lifts her face up from her place on the bed.

"You're not funny," she tells him and then, "Maybe I should go talk to him."

He grins, but shakes his head.

"Maybe you should give the lad some time," he suggests, and with some hesitation on his part, he offers up, "I could talk to him."

Her eyebrows furrow slightly, as though she doesn't quite believe what he said. He doesn't blame her. He'd rather not have this conversation with the lad either, but they've grown closer, in the few months they'd worked together to help Emma overcome her visions, and Killian would like to think that they had a bond now.

He expects Emma to deny him that, though he's not sure why, but she doesn't. Instead, she shakes her head, her lips twisting.

"Thanks," she says, uncharacteristically soft, her eyes softening. "I'd appreciate that."

"Besides," he tells her as he stalks forward until there's not much room left between the two of them, "You probably shouldn't talk to the lad reeking of sex. I dare say a shower is in order, Swan."

She sighs, shaking her head.

"I suppose your right," she bites her lip. "If only you could join me." She sighs dramatically, shooting him her best come-hither look.

His fingers clench by his sides and he groans, "Swan-"

She smirks.

"I suppose you'll have to wait until Henry's next at Regina's."

She's stalking into the bathroom then, before she suddenly pauses, twirling around to face him and her eyes narrow.

"You told me you'd locked the door last night."

He grins unashamed, even though his left arm reaches up so he can scratch that spot behind his ear.

"Guilty, love."

He's almost out the door, when she calls his name and he turns around, "Killian?"

"Yes?"

"Don't think you're getting out of what we talked about last night," she warns him. "We're still going shopping today, no matter how much you think being sweet with my kid will wear me down. In fact, I'm sure Henry will love to join us."

He groans inwardly, though he grips the door tighter in his grip.

"Of course, love," he mutters.

"Why don't you ask him? And if you would be ever so kind as to get breakfast started..." she trails off, before her eyes meet his determinedly, "But no mackerel."

He snorts, rolling his eyes.

"Of course love. That disgusting calorie filled junk in a wrapper you call a proper breakfast it is."

Emma rolls her eyes this time, though she does walk into the room.

"And you say I'm dramatic," she throws behind her.

"Takes one to know one, love," he shoots back in a yell, as he makes his way downstairs.

.

Henry does decide to join them, when he gets over his own embarrassment, that is. In fact, the lad almost looks gleeful, as he eats up his breakfast.

"When are we leaving?" Henry pipes up, as Killian hears the shower turn off upstairs.

"Whenever your mother is ready. Any minute I'd say," he tells him.

Henry grins, jumping up from the kitchen stool.

"Cool," he murmurs. "It'll only take me five to get ready. Thanks for breakfast, Killian."

Killian nods, as the boy jumps down, and he goes about clearing up the pots and pans from breakfast. A fact Emma was quite impressed with him being able to do, with just having one hand, and the one that she'd gotten out of doing quite frequently since she protested she hated doing it.

Emma comes waltzing down the stairs, not long after Henry disappears up them, looking freshly showered, and (rather regrettably, in his opinion) dressed for the day.

"Henry said he'd love to come," he informs her, almost grumpily.

She snorts, shaking her head.

"We're going shopping," she tells him, her eyebrows raised as she crosses her arms over the chest, leaning against the table. "I'm not asking you to face Hades again."

He shoots her a look, pressing his lips together.

"It's not as though I need to go shopping," he mutters, as he wipes the table.

Emma snorts.

"You have precisely two shirts in your collection, and nothing but leather pants. A little variety wouldn't kill you, Killian."

"It could," he mutters, almost petulantly.

That's when Henry comes beaming down the stairs.

"Ready," he shouts, as he stalls at the bottom.

Emma smirks.

"Come on then, kid. Let's get going."

Henry's ecstatic (apparently he doesn't get much chance to go shopping since it doesn't exist much inside Storybrooke and Emma loves to take him), Killian not so much.

"You could look less like your being led to the slaughter, you know," Emma tells him, almost amused.

He knows when she's quoting something, but he can't seem to put his finger on it.

"Still not certain that you're not taking me there, darling."

.

When they finally get there, Emma tells him they'll be staying at her apartment for the night, since it's too much of a long drive to get back. He agrees, and Henry pipes up, "Why don't you too go ahead, mom? There are a few of my friends I want to see."

Emma's forehead crinkles slightly, as her head whips around to face him.

"In New York?" The alone goes unspoken, but Killian knows where her mind is at.

And so does Henry, if the very Emma like eye roll is anything to go by.

"I'm thirteen, mom," he tells her. "And besides, I did get from Storybrooke to you without anything happening, and I have lived here before. I know my way around."

Killian has to admit the boy has a point. So does Emma.

"Fine," she sighs. "Make sure you call me, though," she makes the boy promise. "And don't go too far. You remember where the apartment is. Right, kid?"

Henry snorts.

"Mom!" and shoots her his best I'm-not-stupid look.

"Fine," Emma sighs. "Have fun."

Henry grins and hops out of the car.

"You know," Killian says, "We could just wait at your apartment for the boy to come back..."

Emma shoots him the same look Henry had given her.

"I don't think so. Now, get out. We have some shopping to do."

.

Killian Jones loves Emma Swan. He does. Deeply, with all of his heart.

He's never been a fan of shopping, however. Not even in the Enchanted Forest, when it included far less, and picking out one, maybe two outfits that he'd used for the entirity of his pirating days. That fact has not changed. Emma seems to be a fan of shopping, though. Well, shopping for him. At least. He'd never taken her as the type to be all too bothered about the latest fashion.

They're currently in a shop that Killian cannot remember the name of, and they're browsing around shirts (well, Emma is), as he trails hopelessly behind her. This realm certainly had a large variety of men's clothes.

"We should get you some checked shirts," the love of his life is saying, and his forehead crinkles slightly, head tilting.

"Checked shirts?" He interrupts her.

Emma hums.

"Yeah. Come on. They're this way."

He chuckles at her tone, the way she rolls her eyes. And she looks so happy today, that he's certain he'd let her purchase whatever she wanted him to wear, so long as she keeps smiling the way she does.

(She's been smiling rather too less lately, and he doesn't like it. She deserves it all, she deserves the world, and all of its beauties.)

"These are checked shirts," she's saying, and his head twists more firmly in her direction, his thoughts having trailed him away. "See? You can get all sorts of different colours. I'm thinking some nice blues, to go with your eyes. And some reds. Definitely some reds. You look good in red."

He chuckles when she rambles slightly, and she hears it if they mock glare she sends his way is anything to go by, but all he can do is smile, as she holds the top up near his torso.

"Yepp," her lips pop together. "Definitely red."

He steps forward into her space, clearing his throat.

"You like these," he hesitates around the unfamiliar word, "check shirts then, Swan?"

She nods.

"Oh, yeah. I use to wear them as a kid a lot, myself," she tells him, and he finds himself intrigued, listening, as he always does at the mention of Emma's past.

"Yeah?" He asks.

She must sense it because she shrugs slightly.

"It was the first thing the Swan's got me," she tells him quietly, and he can clearly see the emotion swelling around in her jade eyes. "When they took me in. They wanted me to have the best, they said, and that the shirts would keep me warm."

She catches his eyes, finally, and he reaches forward to wrap his fingers around 's a tradition you

"It's a tradition you kept," it comes out as a question.

She shrugs, "I guess it stuck with me, and it's something I use to wear a lot. When I was in the foster system. Abby, the foster carer, until I was 13, was always nice to me, when she could be. Especially around Christmas time. She used to buy me one every year. In red. It's one of my fondest memories of being in the system."

She squeezes his fingers, and he smiles slightly.

She's a puzzle, his Swan, and he likes figuring out every detail of her life. So similar, yet so different to his own upbringing.

"I guess I didn't want the memories anymore, when I turned 13, and both the Swans and Abby were taken away from me, and I was moved on to another place. Especially when I turned 18, and I left the system, without a family." That they'd failed her, that she'd felt failed lingers in the air, and he tries not to focus too much on that right now.

He smiles wider, almost encouraging, nods slightly, at the little bit of extra detail he's gotten, but he doesn't push her to talk about it. As far as she's come to trusting him (and he knows she loves and trusts him), she still doesn't like talking about her childhood all that much. He gets that. He doesn't like talking about his time in servitude, other than the memories he has of Liam.

If she wants to talk about it to him, she will, and he squeezes her hand one last time to encourage her, before letting it drop with a sigh.

"Well," he smiles, "the red checked shirts you are so fond of it is, Swan."

"And the blue ones," she interjects.

He rolls his eyes and sighs dramatically.

"And the blue ones," he grins at her.

He pulls her down for a kiss, his nose bumping across hers, as his fingers lock into her blonde curls, his thumb stroking the soft skin of her cheek. His lips brush across hers twice, before he pulls back, far enough so he can catch her green eyes. He finds he likes the happiness in them today. He smiles softly at her.

"So, enough shopping for the day?"

She snorts, pushing back on his shoulders, and swatting his chest.

"You wish, pirate. We're just getting started."

He loves her, he does. Shopping not so much, but he decides it's definitely worth the smile on her face.

.

Emma's surprised when she opens her first present that year on Christmas day, surrounded by her family.

Henry. Her dad. Her mom. Regina and Robin, even. Little Robyn and even Zelena, who was on a new path to heroism. Her true love.

He coughs, shrugging.

She looks back down at the red, checked shirt, that was wrapped so carefully, that it had to be from him. Emma blamed that (his ridiculous little quirks like that) on him growing up in the navy.

"I thought," he hesitates, scratching behind his ear, "I just thought we could start our own traditions."

She just has to kiss him, even if her father doesn't agree with that sentiment ("For god sakes, Emma. I'm your father, I don't need to see that-"). But, she ignores them all, as she starts her new, favourite tradition off with her favourite pirate.

And if she falls pregnant a few months later, and the first thing she buys their little girl is a little red, checked shirt of her own, it's just between her and Killian, and the loving grin he shoots her when she shows him.

(She even buys Henry one, but as he tells her, "It isn't cool for teenagers to wear matching shirts with the entire family", but he wears it on Christmas day, the following year, matching his little sister's, so she'll leave him be.)


End file.
